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sroRTS, rASTi:\fES, ceremonies, 










I tell of festivals, and fairs, and plays, 

Of moninieuL and mirth, and bunfire blaze; 

J Uill of Cliristmas-munimiiigs new year's day. 

Of twelflli-night king and queen, and children's play; 

I tell of Valentines, and true- love's- knots, 

Of omens, cimuing men, and drawiug lota — 

I tell of brooks, of blossoms, birds and bowera, 

Of April, May, of June, and July-dowers ; 

I tell of ilay-poles. hock-carts, wassails, wakes, 

Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their biidal-cakea | 

I tell of groves, of twilights, and I sing 

The court of Mab, and of the lairy-king. 









i>d hv W J l.*^-' 

I,ONin'.N wn.l.IAU TK''I 














OrR ancestors were persons of kisure. They appropriated each day in the 
year to the memory of remarkable persons or events. The Eyebt-Dat Book will 
relate the origin of these three hundred and sixty-five celebrations, with interest- 
in_^ accounts of the individuals and circumstances commemorated. 

It will cspe3ially describe the National and Domestic Festivities at the Keniark- 
able Seasons, and on tlie great Holidays that are still kept; particularly those on 
New Year's day — Twelfth day — St. Agnes' eve — Candlemas day — St. Valentine's 
day — Shrovetide — Ash 'Wednesday — St. David's day — St. Patrick's day — Pahn 
Sunday — Lady day — All Fools' day — Maundy Thursday — Good Friday — Easter- 
tide — Ilock day — St. George's day — May day — Royal Oak day — Whitsuntide — 
St. Barnabas' day — St. John's eve — St. Swithiu's day — Lammas-tide — Corpus 
Christi day — jMidsummer-tide — iMichaclmas-tide — Allliallow e'en — Gunpowder 
Plot day — St. Andrew's day — Christmas-tide — Childermas day — New Year's eve, 

While recording such observances, it will entertain the reader with descriptions 
of numerous Popular Merriments and Usages, a few of which may be mentioned 
as instances: namely, Fairs — Wakes — Morris Dancings — Harvest Homes — Shear- 
ings — Mayings — Aleings — Wassailings — Mummings — Soulings — Waits — Eton 
l^Iontem — Hogmanj' — Yule, &c. 

Besides a multitude of subjects of this description, the amusing character of the 
Every-Day Book will be increased by curious details respecting Flinging the 
stocking — The Wandering Jew — Hand of Glory — Glastonbury thorn — Wrestling — 
Kissing — Man in the Moon — Kobin Hood — The Merry Thought — Tea — The 
Drama — Highgafe oath — Dunmow fiitch — Winifreds well — Music — Horn Fail 
^Old Nick — Joint ring — Robin Goodfellow — Robin Badfdlow — Passing bell — 
Wedding ring — Death watch — The Grace cup — Archery — Cockfighting— Break- 
ing up — Jack a' Lan thorn — Second sight — Barber's pole — Strewing rushes — 
Bleeding of the Murdered — Under the Rose — Sitting cross legged — liOngevity — 
Coronation stone — Sneezing — Bear baiting — Lady in the straw — Seventh son of a 
seventh sim — True lover's knot — Blindman's buff — Curfew bell — Divining rod — 
Hunt the slipper — Roodloft — Nightmare — Pricking in the belt — Dress — Cursing 
by bell, book and candle — Golf— Black's the white o' my eye — Garnish — Barring 
out at schoul — Groaning cake — Chiromancy — Cunning men — Undertakers — Mar- 
riages — Penny weddings — Vanes — Love charms — Toys — Storms — Moles — 
.Cramp rings — Horseshoes — Fools — Jesters — Apparitions — Babies in the eyes — 
Fairy rings— Autographs— Witch finders— Witches— Wizards — Shop signs— Cries 
— Amulets — Duels — Charms — Healths — Exorcisms — Evil eyes — Eclipses- 
Shooting stars — Gypsies — Sin eaters — Corpse candles— Jlisers — Quacks— Incan- 
tations — Crickets — Bonfires — Old saws — Philtres— Frosts — Fairies— Somnambu- 
lists — Christenings — Pawnbrokers' balls — Burials — Cuckolds — Processions — 
Spectres — Lucky and unlucky numbers — Newspapers — Christmas-boxes — Bogles — 
Brownies — Spunkiea — Kelpies — Wraiths — Dwarfs — Giants — Fascinations-To- 
bacco — Snufif — Sorcerers — Songs — Hair and Wigs — Vigils — Spirits — Omens— 


Fuiiiiliars — llcly Wella— tio^ssips — Cards — WiYcks — Divinations — Bitrotliings — 
SIuoikIji — TavLintions — I'lumouieua, &o. &c. &e. By the introduction of various 
topics and facts of a still more interestiiii;^ and important nature, with suitable 
Hiatorical, Biographical, Astronomical, and Seasonable Anecdotes — information that 
is useful to all, will be combined with amusement that is a^rcoable to most. 

The Every-Day Book will be a Jlin.'orij of tlie Year. Whether it be con- 
snltel respecting to-day or to-morrow, or any other day, it will jiresent acciptalile 
particulars respecting the day sought. It becomes, thertfoie, a Perjictiud Guide 
to ihe Year — not to any one year in parlicular, but to every year — and foiius a. 
Complete iJiclioiianj of the Almanac, for the daily use and instruction of every 
person who possesses an Altn.mac, and desires a Kcij to it. 

In this view it will be the Evei;v-Day Book of pleasure and husiness^o^ 
parents and eiiildren, teachers and pn[)ils, masters and servants : and, as Cowper 
says, that, "a volume of ver.-e is a fiddle that sets the universe in motion," it is 
believed that his reniaik n,ay be somewhat verified by the pleasant images and 
kind feelings, which the inter&persion of much excellent poetry throughout the 
work is designed to create in all classes of its rcadeis. 

]\Iuny essential i)articulars relating to the days of the week, the twelve months, 
the four siasons, and the yiar generally, will be airanged by way of Ajipcndix, an 1 
there will bo a copious Index to the whole. 

A number, or sheet of thirty-two columns, price threepence, will be publisiicd 
every Saturday till the undertaking is completed, which will be in about a year— 
a few weeks more or less. The Engravings in each will vary as to number: in 
some there may be only one or two ; in others, three, or four, or five — according to 
the suhjcct. 

It will form a large and handsome volume, containing a greater body of curious 
and interesting anecdotes and facts than exists in any other in the English language ; 
and be illustrated by nearly two hundred Engravings from the original designs of 
su|)erior artists, or from rare and remarkable prints and drawings. 

This mode of publication is adopted with a view to two objects: 1st, the general 
dilfusion of useful facts in connection with various information; and 2dly, the 
attainment of additional jiartieulai-s during its progress. 

To a large mass of materials already collecte<l, communications respecting local 
usages or customs in any part of the United Kingdom, and Festival Ceremonials 
abroad, will he especially accejjtablc. Such eoinmunicalions, or any useful hints 
or suggestions, or permi.ssion to extract from lx)oks or manuscripts, it will give me 
great pleasure to receive, and to acknowledge as circumstances may require. 

,r T 1 , 1 11 W. HuXE. 

45, Lnd(jale-hill, 
'3ld December, 1S24. 

Note. — This Leaf and the Title are to be cut of, and (hrown aside, lohen the Volume is 
bound. A new title, &c., will be given gratis. 

MY TIIR1':E trials, a royal octavo vohnnc of GOO pages, handsomely printed 
and illustrated by numerous Engravings on cojipcr and wood, plain and coloured, is 
in eonsiilendjlu forwardness. The price will be 21. 2s. in extra boards. 'The favour 
of additional names to ihelist of Subscribers is respecffully solicited, in order to regulate 
the nundjcr of copies to be printed— but 'iiO UO'&V.Y WILL BE RECEIVED w//W 
the booh is ddivered. 



Deak L- 

YouR letter to me, within the first two months from the 
commencement of the present work, approving my notice of 
St. Chad's Well, and your afterwards daring to publish me your 
"friend," with your "proper name" annexed, I shall never forget. 
Nor can I forget your and Miss Lamb's sympathy and kindness, 
when glooms outmastered me; and that your pen spontaneously 
sparkled in the book, when my mind was in clouds and darkness. 
These " trifles," as each of you would call them, are benefits scored 
upon my heart ; and 





May 5, 1826. 

"rrit^wkc*^ '-^f^ J*^j 




(giiilie to tijt ^tuv^ ^ 














Wilb a Variety of 




I tell of festivals, and fairs, and plays, 

Of merriments, and mirth, and bonfire blaze; 

I tell of Cliristmas-mummings, new year's day, 

Of t«eltli-nit;ht king and queen, aud children's play ; 

1 tell of valentines, and true-loves-knots, 

Of omens, cunning men, and drawing lots 

I 1 tell of brooks, of blossoms, birds and bowers, 
Of .\pril. May, of June, and July flowers; 
I tell of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes, 
Of briclegrooras, brides, and of their bridal cakes ; 
1 tell of groves, of twilights, and I sine 
The court of Mab, and of the fairy-king. 




{To he published every SatuTday, price Threepence,) 




This volume is a specimen of a work undertaken for tlie purpose of form- 
ing a collection of the manners and customs of anciont and modern times, 
with descrij)tive accounts of the several seasons of popular pastime. 

Each of the three hundred and sixty -five days in the year is distinguished 
by occurrences or other particulars relating to the day, and by the methods 
of celebrating every holiday ; the work is therefore what its title purports, 
The Every-Dat Book. 

It is an Everlasting Calendar — because its collection of facts con- 
cerning the origin and usages of every remarkable day, including movable 
feasts and fasts, constitute a calendar for every year. 

It is a History of the Year — because it traces the commencement and 
progress of the year from the first day to the last. 

It is a History' of the Months — because it describes the appearances 
that distinguish each month from the other months. 

It is a History of the Sicasons — because it describes the influences and 
character of the four q^uarters into which the year is divided, and the most 
remarkable objects in natural history peculiar to each season. 

It is a Perpetual Key to the Almanack — because it explains the signifi- 
cation of every name and term in the almanack. 

Its antiquarian and historical notices are calculated to engage the atten- 
tion of ahnost every class of readers, and to gratify several who would scarcely 
expect such particulars in such a miscellany. The perplexities attending the 
discovery of certain facts, and the labour of reducing all into order, will be 
appreciated by the few who have engaged in similar pursuits. Some curious 
matters are now, for the first time, submitted to the public; and others are 
so rare as to seem altogether new. 

As regards the engravings, to such as are from old masters, notices of their 
prints are always annexed. The designs for the allegorical and other illus- 
trations have originated with myself; and the drawings been accommodated, 
and the engravings executed, according to my own sense of subject and style. 
In numerous instances they have been as satisfactory to me as to my readers ; 
many of whom, however, are less difficult to please than I am, and have favour- 
ably received some things which I have been obliged to tolerate, because the 
exigency of publication left me no time to supply their place. I know what 
art can accomplish, and am therefore dissatisfied when artists fail to 

viii PEEFACE. 

I may now avow that I have other aims thau I deemed it expedient to 
muntion in the prospectus : — to commimicate in an agreeable manner, the 
{.reatest possible variety of important and diverting facts, without a single 
Bentence to excite an uneasy sensation, or an embarrassing inquiry ; and, by 
not seeming to teach, to cultivate a high moral feeling, and the best affections 
of the heart : — to open a storehouse, from whence manhood may derive daily 
instruction and amusement, and youth and innocence be informed, and retain 
their innocency. 

To these intentions I have accommodated my materials under such 
difficulties as I hope may never be experienced by any one engaged in 
such a labour. To what extent less embarrassed and more enlarged facul- 
ties could have better executed the task I cannot determine ; but I have 
always kept my main object in view, the promotion of social and benevolent 
feelings, and I am persuaded this prevailing disposition is obvious throughout. 
The poetical illustrations, whether " solemn thinkings," or light dispersions, 
are particularly directed to that end. 

I may now be permitted to refer to the copious indexes for the multifarious 
contents of the volume, and to urge the friends to the undertaking for assist- 
ance towards its completion. There is scarcely any one who has not said — 
" Ah ! this is something that will do for the Every-Day Book ;" I crave to be 
favom-ed with that " something." Others have observed — " I exjDected some- 
thing about so and so in the Every-Day Booh." It is not possible, however, 
that I should know every thing ; but if each will communicate " something," 
the work will gratify every one, and my own most sanguine wishes. 

And here I beg leave to offer my respectful thanks to several correspondents 
who have already furnished me with accoimts of customs, &c, whicTi appear 
under different signatui'es. Were I permitted to disclose their real names, it 
would be seen that several of these communications are from distinguished 
characters. As a precaution against imposition, articles of that nature have 
not been, nor can they be, inserted, without the name and address of the 
writer being confided to myself. Accounts, so subscribed, will be printed 
with any initials or mark the writers may please to suggest. 

From the publication of the present volume, a correct judgment may be 
formed of the nature and tendency of the work, which incidentally embraces 
almost every topic of inquiry or remark connected with the ancient and pre- 
sent state of manners and literature. Scarcely an individual is without a 
scrap-book, or a portfolio, or a collection of some sort ; and whatever a kind- 
hearted reader may deem curious or interesting, and can conveniently spare, 
I earnestly hope and solicit to be favoured with, addressed to me at Messrs. 
Hunt and Clarke's, Tavistock-street, who receive communications for the 
work, and publish it in weekly sheets, and monthly parts, as usual. 


May, 1826. 

P.S. — As many of the admirers of Hones Popular Works have expressed regret 
that his original Titles were not included in the present Edition, the Publisher 
has much pleasure in acceding to their wishes. 


See Page 828. 




JL HIS is the first and the coldest month 
of the year. Its zodiacal sign is Aquarius 
or the Waterbearer It derives its name 
fiom Janus, a deicy represented by the 
llomans with two faces, because he was 
ncquainted with past and future events. 
(Cotton introduces him into a poem on the 
new year — 

Hark, the cock crows, and yon bright star 
Tells us, the day himself's not far ; 
And see where, breaking from the night, 
He gilds the western hills with light. 
With him old Janus doth appear, 
I^eeping into the future year. 
With such a look as seems to say. 
The prospect is not good that way. 
Thus do we rise ill sights to see, 
And 'gainst ourselves to prophesy ; 
When the prophetic fear of things 
A more tormenting mischief brings, 
More full of soul-tormenting gall 
Than direst mischiefs can befall. 
But stay ! but stay ! Methinks my siglit. 
Better inform'd by clearer light. 

Discerns sereneness in that brow, 
1 hat all contracted seem'd but now. 
His revers'd face may show distaste, 
And frown upon the ills are past ; 
But that which this way looks is clear. 
And smiles upon the new-born year. 

According to the ancient mythology, 
Janus was the god of gates and avenues, 
and in that character held a key in his 
right hand, and a rod in his left, to sym- 
bolize his opening and ruling the year: 
sometimes he bore the number 300 in one 
hand, and 65 in the other, the number of 
its days. At other times he was repro- 
sented with four heads, and placed in a 
temple of four equal sides, with a door 
and three windows in each side, as em- 
blems of the four seasons and the twelve 
months over which he presided 

According to Veislegan (Restitution of 
Decayed Intelligence, 4to. 1628, p. 59) 
the Saxons called this inanth " Wolf- 
monat," or Wolf-monih, because the 




wolves of our ancient forests, impelled by 
hunger at this season, were wont to prowl 
and attack man himself; the inferior ani- 
mals, on whom they usually preyed, having 
retL'ed or perisher. from the inclemency of 
the weather. The Saxons also called this 
- month "Aefter-yula," or After Christmas. 
In illuminated calendars prefixed to 
catholic missals, or service books, January 
was frequently depicted as a man with 
fagots or a woodman's axe, shivering 
and blowing his fingers. Spenser intro- 
duces this month in nis Faerie Queene : 
Then came old January, wrapped well 
In many weeds to keep the cold away ; 
Yet did he quake and quiver like to quell ; 
And blowhisnayles to warme them if he may; 
For they were numb'd with holding all the 

An hatchet keene, with which he felled wood, 
And from the trees did lop the needlesse spray. 

Sanuari) l. 

r A close holiday at all public 
Circumcision. | offices except the Excise, Cus- 
) toms, and Stamps. 

This festival stands in the calendar of 
the church of England, as well as in that 
of the Roman catholic church. It is 
said to have been instituted about 487 ; 
Jt first appeared in the reformed English 
liturgy in 1550. ' 

Without noticing every saint to whom each 
day is dedicated in the Roman catholic calen- 
dars, the names of saints will be given day by 
day. as they stand under each day in the last 
edition of their " Lives," by the Rev. Alban 
Butler, in 12 vols. 8vo. On the authority of that 
work the periods will be mentioned when the 
saints most noted for their miracles flourished, 
and some of those miracles be stated. Other 
miracles will be given : First, from " The Golden 
Legend," a black letter folio volume, printed by 
W. de Worde. — Secondly, from " The Church 
History of Britain," by the Benedictine father, 
S. Cressy, dedicated by him to the queen con- 
sort of Charles II., a folio, printed in 1668. — 
Thirdly, from the catholic translation of the 
" Lives of the Saints," by the Rev. Father 
Peter Ribadeneira, priest of the society of 
Jesus, second edition, London, 1730, 2 vols, folio ; 
and Fourthly, from other sources which will be 
named. By this means the reader will be ac- 
quainted with legends that rendered the saints 
and the celebration of their festivals popular. 
For example, the saints in Butler's Lives on this 
day occur in the following order : 

S(. Fulgentius ; St. Odilo, or Olou ; 
St. Almachns, or Tclemachus ; St. Eu- 
s^endus, or Oyend ; St. Fanchea, or Fame ; 
St. Mochua, or Moncain, alias Claunus ; 
St. Mochua, alias Cronan, of Bulla. 

Sts. Mochua. According to Butler, these 
were Irish saints. One founded the mo- 
nastery, now the town of Balla, in Con- 
naught. The other is said to have founded 
120 cells, and thirty churches, in one of 

which he passed thirty years, and died 
about the sixth century. Bishop Patrick, 
in his" Reflexions upon the Devotions of 
the Roman Church," 1674, 8vo. cites oi 
St. Mochua, that while walking and pray- 
ing, and seeing a company of lambs run- 
ning hastily to suck their mothers, he drew 
a line upon the ground which none of the 
hungry lambs durst pass. Patrick again 
cites, that St. Mochua having been vi- 
sited by St Kyenanus and fifteen of his 
clergy, they came to an impetuous and 
impassable river on their return, and 
wanted a boat; whereupon St. Mochua 
spread his mantle on the water, and Kye- 
nanus with his fifteen priests were carried 
safely over upon the mantle, which floated 
back again to St. Mochua without wrinkle 
or wetting. 

St. Fanchea, or Faine, is said by Butler 
to have been an Irish saint of the sixth 
century. Patrick quotes that St. Endeus 
desiring to become a monk, his compa- 
nions approached to dissuade him ; but, 
upon the prayers of St. Faine, and her 
making the sign of the cross, their feet 
stuck to the earth like immovable stones, 
until by repentance they were loosed and 
went their way. 

St. Fulgentius, according to Butler, died 
on the 1st of January, 533, sometimes went 
barefoot, never undressed to take rest, not 
ate flesh meat, but chiefly lived on pulse 
and herbs, though when old he admitted 
the use of a little oil. He preached, ex- 
plained mysteries, controverted with here- 
tics, and built monasteries. Butler con- 
cludes by relating, that after his death, a 
bishop named Pontian was assured in a 
vision of Fulgentius's immortality ; that 
his relics were translated to Bourges, where 
they are venerated ; and that the saint's 
head is in the church of the's 


The King of Lip-ht, father of aged Time, 
Hath brought about that day, which is the 

To the slow gliding months, when every eye 
Wears symptoms of a sober jollity; 
And every hand is readj' to present 
Some service in a real compliment. 
Whilst some in gol(i<n letters write theii 

Some speak affection by a ring or glore, 
Or pins and points ( for ev'n the peasant may 
After his ruder fashion, be as gay 
As the brisk courtly sir,) and thinks that he 
Cannot, without a gross absurdity. 


Be tins day frugal, and not spare liis friend 
Siiiie nit'i, to show liis love finds not an end 
U ith the deceased j-ear. 

PooLEs's EsG. Parnassus. 

In the volume of " Elta," an excellent 
paper begins with " Every man liath two 
birthdays : two days, at least, in every 
year, which set him upon revolving the 
lapse of time, as it affects his mortal dura- 
tion. The one is that which in an especial 
manner he termeth his. In the gradual 
desuetude of old observances, this custom 
of solemnizing our proper birthday hath 
nearly passed away, or is left to children, 
who reflect nothing at all about the mat- 
ter, nor understand any thing beyond the 
cake and orange. But the birth of a 
new year is of an interest too wide to be 
pretermitted by king or cobbler. No one 
ever regarded the First of January with 
indifference. It is that from which all 
date their time, and count upon what is 
left. It is the nativity of our common 

" ( )f all sound of all bells — (bells, the 
music nighest bordering upon heaven) — 
most solemn and touching is the peal 
which rings out the old year. I never 
hear it without a gathering-up of rr.y 
mind to a concentration of all the images 
that have been diffused over the past 
twelvemonth ; all I have done or suffered, 
performed, or neglected — in that regretted 
time. I begin to know its worth as when 
a person dies. It takes a personal colour ; 
nor was it a poetical flight in a contem- 
porary, when he exclaimed, 

' I saw tlie skirts of the departing year.' 

" The elders with whom I was brought 
up, were of a character not likely to let 
slip the sacred observance of any old in- 
stitution ; and the ringing out of the old 
year was kept by them with circumstan- 
ces of peculiar ceremony. In those days 
the sound of those midnight chimes, 
though it seemed to raise hilarity in all 
around me, never failed to bring a train 
of pensive imagery into my fancy. Yet I 
then scarce conceived what it meant, or 
thought of it as a reckonmg that con- 
cerned me. Not childhood alone, but the 
young man till thirty, never feels practi- 
cally that he is mortal." 

Ringing out the old and rmging in the 
new year, with " a merry new year I a 
happy new year to you !" on new year's 
day, were greetings that moved sceptred 
pride, and humble labour, to smiles and 

kind feelings in former times ; and why 
should they be unfashionable in our own! 

Dr. Drakeobseives, in "Shakspeare and 
his Times," that the ushering in of the new 
year, or new year's tide, with rejoicings, 
presents, and good wishes, was a custom 
observed, during the 16th century, with 
great regularity and parade, and was as 
cordially celebrated m the court of the 
prince as in the cottage of the peasant. 

The Rev.T. D. Fosbroke, in his valuable 
" F'ncyclopedia of Antiquities," adduces 
various authorities to show that congratu- 
lations, presents, and visits were made by 
the Romans on this day. The origin, he 
says, is ascribed to Romulus and Tatius, 
and that the usual presents were figs and 
dates, covered with leaf-gold, and sent by 
clients to patrons, accompanied with a 
piece of money, which was expended to 
purchase the statues of deities. lie men- 
tions an amphora (a jar) which still exists, 
with an inscription denoting that it was a 
new year's present from the potters to 
their patroness. He also instances from 
Count Caylus a piecc! of Roman pottery, 
with an inscription wishing " a happy 
new year to you ;" another, where a person 
wishes it to himself and his son ; and three 
medallions, with the laurel leaf, fig, and 
date ; one, of Commodus ; another, of 
Victory; and a third, Janus, standing in a 
temple,with an inscription,wishingahappy 
new year to the emperor. New year's gifts 
were continued under the Roman emperors 
until they were prohibited by Claudius. 
Yet in the early ages of the church the 
Christian emperors received them ; nor did 
they wholly cease, although condemned 
by ecclesiastical councils on account of the 
pagan ceremonies at their presentation. 

The Druids were accustomed en certain 
days to cut the sacred misletoe with a 
golden knife, in a forest dedicated to the 
gods, and to distribute its branches with 
much ceremony as new year's gifts among 
the people. 

The late Rev. John Brand, in his 
"Popular Antiquities" edited by Mr. Ellis 
observes from Bishop Stillingfleet, tha. 
among the Saxons of the North, the fes- 
tival of the new year was observed with 
more than ordinary jollity and feasting, 
and by sending new year's gifts to one 
another. Mr. Fosbroke notices the con- 
tinuation of the Roman practice during 
the middle ages ; and that our kings, and 
the nobility especially, interchanged pre- 
sents. Mr. Ellis quotes Matthew Paris, 
who appears to show that U^nrj- HI ex- 


toyted new year's s;ifts ; and he cites from 
a MS. of the public revenue, anno 5, 
Edward VI. an entry of " rewards given 
on new year's day to the king's officers 
and servants in ordinary 155/. 5s., and 
to their servants that present the king's 
niajestie with new year's gifts." An 
orange stuck with cloves seems, by refer- 
ence to Mr. Fosbroke and our early au- 
thors, to have been a popular new year's 
gift. Mr. Ellis suggests, that the use of 
this present may be ascertained from a 
remark by old Lupton, that the flavour of 
wine is improved, and the wine itself pre- 
served from mouldmess,by an orange or 
lemon stuck with cloves being hung within 
the vessel so as not to touch the liquor. 

Thomas Naogeorgus, in " The Popish 
Kingdome,''a Latin poem written in 1553, 
and Englished by Barnabe Googe, after 
remarkins on days of the old year, urges 
this recollection : 

The next to this is Newe yeares day 
whereon to every frende, 

They costly presents in do bring, 
and Newe yeares giftes do sende, 

These giftes the husband gives his wife, 
and father eke the childe, 

And maister on his menbestowes 
the like, with favour milde. 

Honest old Latimer, instead of present- 
ing Henry VHLwith a purse ot gold, as 
was customary, for a new year's gift, put 
into the king's hand a New Testament, 
with a leaf conspicuously doubled down 
at Hebrews xiii. 4, which, on reference, 
will be found to have been worthy of all 
acceptation, though not perhaps well ac- 
cepted. Dr. Drake is of opinion that the 
wardrobe and jewellery of queen Elizabeth 
were principally supported by these an- 
nual contributions on new year's day. He 
cites lists of the new yeai's gifts presented 
to her, from the original rolls published in 
her Progresses by Mr. Nichols; and from 
these it appears that the greatest part, if 
not all the peers and peeresses of the 
realm, all the bishops, the chief officers of 
state, and several of the queen's house- 
hold servants, even down to her apothe- 
caries, master cook, serjeant of the pastry, 
&c. gave new year's gifts to her majesty ; 
consisting, in general, either of a sum of 
money, or jewels, trinkets, wearing appa- 
rel, &c. The largest sum given by any 
of the temporal lords was 20/. ; but the 
archbishop of Canterbury gave 40?., the 
archbishop of York 30/., and the other 
spiritual lords 20/. and 10/.; many of 
tlie temooral lords and great ofhcers, and 

most of the peeresses, gave rich gowns, 
petticoats, shifts, silk stockings, garters, 
sweet-bags, doublets, mantles embroidered 
with precious stones, looking-glasses, fans, 
bracelets, caskets studded with jewels, 
and other costly trinkets. Sir Gilbert 
Dethick, garter king at arms, gave a book 
of the States in William the Conqueror's 
time ; Absolon, the master of the Savoy, 
gave a Bible covered with cloth of gold, 
garnished with silver gilt, and plates of 
the royal arms; the queen's physician 
presented her with a box of foreign 
sweetmeats ; another physician presented 
a pot of green gir.ger, and a pot of orange 
flowers; her apothecaries gave her a box of 
lozenges, a box of ginger candy, a box of 
green p-inger, and pots of other conserves. 
Mrs. Blanch a Parry gave her majesty a 
little gold comfit-box and spoon ; Mrs. 
Morgan gave a box of cherries, and one 
of apricots. The queen's master cook 
and her serjeant of the pastiy, presented 
her with various confectionary and pre- 
serves. Putrino, an Italian, gave her two 
pictures ; Ambrose Lupo gave her a box of 
lute strings, and a glass of sweet water , 
each of three other Italians presented her 
with a pair of sweet gloves ; a cutler 
gave her a meat knife having a fan haft 
of bone, with a conceit in it; Jeromy 
Bassano gave two drinking glasses ; and 
Smyth, the dustman, presented her ma- 
jesty with two bolts of cambrick. Some ol 
these gifts to Elizabeth call to recollection 
the tempting articles which Autolycus, in 
the " Winter's Tale," invites the country 
girls to buy : he enters singing, 

Lawn, as white as driven snow; 
Cypress, black as e'er was crow ; 
Gloves, as sweet as damask roses 
Masks for faces, and for noses ; 
Bufrlc bracelet, necklace-amber, 
Perfume for a lady's chamber ; 
Golden quoifs, and stomachers, 
For my lads to give their dears ; 
Pins, and poking-sticks of steel. 
What maids Inck from head to heel : 
Come, buy of me, come: come buy, come 

buy ; 
Buy, lads, or else your lasses cry, 
Come, buy, &c. 

Dr. Drake says, that though Elizabeth 
made returns to the new year's gifts, ia 
plate and other articles, yet she took su# 
ficient care that the balance should be ' 
her own favour. 

No. 4982, in the Catalogue for 1824, oi 
Mr. Rodd, of Great Newport-street, is a 
roll of vellum, ten feet long, containins: the 


new year's gifts from kinp; James I. to the 
persons whose names are therein mention- 
ed on the 1st of January 1605, with the 
new year's gifts that his majesty received 
tlie same day ; the loll is signed by James 
himself and certain officers of his house- 

In a "Banquet of Jests, 1634," 12mo. 
there is a pleasant story of Archee, the 
king's jester, who, having fooled many, 
was fooled himself. Coming to a noble- 
man, upon new year's day, to bid him 
good-morrow, Archee received twenty 
pieces of gold ; but, covetously desiring 
more, he shook them in his hand, and said 
they were too light. Tlie donor answered: 
" I prithee, Archee, let me see them again, 
for there is one amongst them I would be 
loth to part with:" Archee, expecting the 
sum to be increased, returned the pieces 
to his lordship ; who put them in his 
pocket with this remark, " I once gave 
money into a fool's hand, who had not the 
wit to keep it." 

Pins were acceptable new year's gifts 
to the ladies, instead of the wooden skew- 
ers which they used till the end of the 
fifteenth century. Sometimes they re- 
ceived a composition in money : and hence 
allowances for their separate use is still 
denominated " pin-money." 

Gloves were customary new year's 
gifts. They were more expensive than 
in our times, and occasionally a money 
present was tendered instead : this was 
called " glove-money." Sir Thomas More, 
as lord chancellor, decreed in favour of 
a Mrs. Croaker against the lord Arundel. 
On the following new year's day, in 
token of her gratitude, she presented sir 
Thomas with a pair of gloves, containing 
forty angels. " It would be against good 
manners," said the chancellor, to forsake 
a gentlewoman's new year's gift, and I 
accept the gloves ; their lining you will 
be pleased otherwise to bestow." 

Mr. Brand relates from a curious MS. 
in the British Museum, of the date of 
1560, that the boys of Eton school used 
on this day to play for little new year's 
gifts before and after supper; and also 
to make verses, which they presented to 
the provost and masters, and to each other: 
new year's gifts of verses, however, were 
not peculiar to schoolboys. A poet, the 
beauties of whose poetry are justly re- 
marked to be " of a kind which time has 
a tendency rather to hallow than to in- 
jure," Robert Herrick, presents us, in his 
Hejperides, with " a Nev; Year's Gift 

sent to Sir Simon Stewarc!." lie coin- 
n.ences it merrily, and goes on to ( all it 

a jolly 

Veise, crown'd with ivy and wi*h liolly ; 

That tells of winter's tales and mirth, 

That inilk-maids make about the hearth ; 

Of Cluistmas' sports, the wassail bowl, 

That tost-up after fox-i' th' hole ; 

Of blind-inan-buft', and of the care 

Tliav young men have to shoe the mare ; 

Of twelfth-tide cakes, of pease and beans. 

Wherewith ye make th^se merry scenes : 

Of crackling laurel, which fore-r-ounds 

A plenteous harvest to your grounds 

Of those, and such like things, for shift. 

We send, instead of \ew Year's Gift. 

Read then, and when your faces shine 

With buxom meat and cap'ring wine 

Remember us in cups full crown'd 

And let our city-health go round. 

Then, as ye sit about your embers. 

Call not to mind the fled Decembers 

But tliink on these, that are t' appea; 

As daughters to the instant year ; 

And to the bagpipes all address 

Till sleep take place of weariness. 

And thus throughout, with Christmas p^ays, 

Frolick the full twelve holidays. j 

Mr. Ellis, in a note on Brand, mtro- ; 
duces a poetical new year's gift in Latin, 
from the stern Buchanan to the unhappy ! 
Mary of Scotland. j 

" New year's gifts," says Dr. Drake i 
" were given and received, with the mutual 
expression of good wishes, and particularly 
that of a happy new year. The compli- 
ment was sometimes paid at each other's 
doors in the form of a song; but more ge- 
nerally, especially in the north of Eng- 
land and in Scotland, the house was en- 
tered very early in the morning, by some 
young men and maidens selected for the 
purpose, who presented the spiced bowl, 
and hailed you with the gratulations of 
the season." To this may be added, that 
ii was formerly the custom in Scotland to 
send new year's gifts on new year's 
eve ; and on new year's day to wish 
each other a happy new year, and ask for 
a new year's gift. There is a citation in 
Brand, from the " Statistical Account of 
Scotland," concerning new year's gifts to 
servant maids by their masters ; and it 
mentions that " there is a large stone, 
about nine or ten feet high, and foui 
broad, placed upright in a plain, in the 
(Orkney) isle of North Ronaldshay ; but 
no tradition is preserved concerning it, 
whether erected in memory of any sigra] 
event, or for thf purpose of administering 
justice, or for religious worship. l"he 


writer of tins (the parish priest) has seen 
Jifty of the inhabitants assembled there, 
on the first day of the year, dancing by 
moonlight, with no other music than 
their own singing." 

In Mr. Stewart's " Popular Superstitions 
of the Highlands," there is some account 
of the Candlemas buH, on new year's 
eve, as introductory to ihe new year. 
The term Candlemas, applied to this sea- 
son, is supposed to have originated in 
some old leligious ceremonies performed 
by candlelight. The Bull is a passing 
cloud, which Highland imagination per- 
verts into the form of that animal; as it 
rises or falls or takes peculiar directions, 
of great significancy to the seers, so does 
it prognosticate good or bad weather. The 
more northern nations anciently assigned 
portentous qualities to the winds of new 
year's eve. One of their old legends in 
Brand may be thus versified — the last line 
eking out the verse : 
If New Year's eve night- wind h\o\v south. 
It betokeneth warmth and growth ; 
If west, much milk, and fish in the sea ; 
If nurth, much cold, and storms there will be ; 
If east, the trees will bear much fruit 
If Horth-east, fiee it man and brute. 

Mr. Stewart says, that as soon as night 
sets in it is the signal with the Strath- 
down highlander for the suspension of his 
usual employment, and he directs his at- 
tention to more agreeable callings. The 
men form into bands with tethers and 
axes, and, shaping their course to the 
juniper bushes, they return home laden 
with mighty loads, which are arranged 
round the fire to-dry till morning. A cer- 
tain discreet person is despatched to the 
dead and living ford to draw a pitcher of 
water in profound silence, without the 
vessel touching the ground, lest its virtue 
should be destroyed, and on his return all 
retire to rest. Early on new year's morn- 
ing the Usque-Cashrichd, or water from 
the dead and living ford, is drank, as a 
potent charm, until next new year's day, 
against the spells of witchcraft, the malig- 
nity of evil eyes, and the activity of all 
jnfernal agency. The qualified highlander 
then takes a large brush, with which he 

Erofusely asperses the occupants of all 
eds ; from whom it is not unusual for 
him to receive ungrateful remonstrances 
against ablution. This ended, and the 
doors and windows being thoroughly 
closed, and all crevices stopped, he kindles 
piles of the collected juniper, in the dif- 

ferent apartments, till the vapour from inv 
burning branches condenses into opaque 
clouds, and coughing, sneezing, wheezing, 
gasping, and other demonstrations of suf- 
focation ensue. The operator, aware that 
the more intense the " smuchdan," thi? 
more propitious the solemnity, disregard* 
these indications, and continues, witli 
streaming eyes and averted head, to in- 
crease the fumigation, until in his own 
defence he admits the air to recover the 
exhausted household and himself. He 
then treats the horses, cattle, and other 
bestial stock in the town with the same 
smothering, to keep them from harm 
throughout the year. "When the gude- 
wife gets up, and having ceased from 
coughing, has gained sufficient strength 
to reach the bottle dhn, she administers 
its comfort to the relief of the sufferers : 
laughter takes place of complaint, all the 
family get up, wash their faces, and re- 
ceive the visits of their neighbours, who 
arrive full of gralulations peculiar to the 
day. Mil nase choil orst, " My Candle- 
mas bond upon you " is the customary 
salutation, and means, in plain words, 
" You owe me a new year's gift." A 
point of great emulation is, who shall 
salute the other first ; because the one 
who does so is entitled to a gift from the 
person saluted. Breakfast, consisting of 
all procurable Luxuries, is then served, the 
neighbours not engaged are invited to 
partake, and the day ends in festivity. 

Riding stang, a custom that will be 
observed on hereafter, prevails in some 
parts of England on new year's day to 
the present hour. The " stang " is a 
cowl-staff; the cowl is a water-vessel, 
borne by two persons on the cowl-staff, 
which is a stout pole whereon the vessel 
hangs. " Where's the cowl-staff?" cries 
Ford's wife, when she purposes to get 
Falstaff into a large buck-basket, with two 
handles ; the cowl-staff, or " stang," is 
produced, and, being passed through the 
handles,the fat knight is borne off by two of 
Ford's men. A writer in the Gentleman s 
Magazine, 1791, says, that in Westmore- 
land and Cumberland, on the 1st of Ja- 
nuary, multitudes assemble fta"ly in the 
morning with baskets and '" stangs," and 
whoever does not join them, whether 
inhabitant or stranger, is immediately 
mounted across the " stang," and carried, 
shoulder height, to the next puDiic-house, 
where sixpence liberates the prisoner 
Women are seized in this ^^ay, and car- 


ried in baskets — the sex being privileged 
from riding '• stang," in compliment, per- 
haps, to the use of side-saddles. In the 
same part of the country, no one is al- 
lowed to work on new year's day, how- 
ever industrious. Mr. Ellis shows that it 
was a new year's day custom in ancient 
Rome for tradesmen to work a little only, 
for luck's sake, that they might have con- 
stant business all the year after. 

A communication in an English journal 
of January 1824 relates, that in Paris on 
new year's day, which is called le jour 
d'etreuiies, parents bestow portions on 
their children, brothers on tlieir sisters, 
and husbands make presents to their wives. 
Carriages may be seen rolling through the 
streets with cargoes oi bon-bons, souvenirs, 
and the variety of et ccsterus with which 
little children and grown-up children are 
bribed into good humour ; and here and 
there pastrycooks are to be met with, car- 
rying upon boards enormous temples, pa- 
godas, churches, and playhouses, made of 
fine flour and sugar, and the embellish- 
ments which render French pastry so in- 
viting. But there is one street in Paris 
to which a new year's day is a whole 
year's fortune — this is the Rue des Lom- 
bards, where the wholesale confectioners 
reside; for in Paris every trade and ])ro- 
fession has its peculiar quarter. For se- 
veral days preceding the 1st of January, 
this street is completely blocked up by 
carts and waggons laden with cases of 
sweetmeats for the provinces. These are of 
every form and description w'hich the most 
singular fancy could imagine ; bunches of 
carrots, green peas, boots and shoes, lob- 
sters and crabs, hats, books, musical in- 
struments, gridirons, frying-pans, and 
saucepans ; all made of sugar, and co- 
loured to imitate reality, and all made 
with a hollow within to hold the bon-bons. 
The most prevailing device is what is 
called a cornet, that is, a little cone orna- 
mented in dii^'erent ways with a bag to 
draw over the large end, and close it up. 
In these things, the prices of which vary 
from one franc (tenpence) to fifty, the 
bon-bons are presented by those who 
choose to be at the expense of them, and by 
those who do not, they are only wrapped 
in a piece of paper ; but bon-bons in some 
way or other must be presented. It would 
not, perhaps, be an exaggeration to state 
that the amount expended for presents on 
new year's day in Paris, for sweetmeats 
alone, exceeds 500.000 francs, or 20,000/. 
sterling Jew ellery is also sold to a very 

large amount, and the fancy ex- 
ported in the first week in the year to 
England and other countries, is computed 
at one-fourth of the sale during the twelve 
months. In Paris it is by no means un- 
common for a man of 8,000 or 10,000 
francs a year to make presents on new 
year's day which cost him a fifteenth part 
of his income. No person able to give 
must on this day pay a visit empty-handed 
Every body accepts, and every man gives 
according to the means which he possesses. 
I'emales alone are excepted from the charge 
of giving. A pretty woman, respectably 
connected, may reckon her new year's pre- 
sents at something considerable. Gowns, 
jewellery, gloves, stockings, and artificial 
flowers, fill her drawing-room ; for in Paris 
it is a custom to display all the gifts, in 
order to excite emulation, and to obtain 
as as possible. At the palace the 
new year's day is a complete jour de 
fete. Every branch of the royal family is 
then expected to make handsome presents 
to the king. For the six months preceding 
January 1824, the female branches were 
busily occupied in preparing presents of 
their own manufacture, which would fill 
at least two common-sized waggons. The 
duchess de Berri painted an entire room 
of japanned pannels, to be set up in the 
palace ; and the duchess of Orleans pre- 
pared an elegant screen. An English 
gentleman who was admitted suddenly 
into the presence of the duchess de Berri 
two months before, found her, and three 
of her maids of honour, lying on the car- 
pet, painting the legs of a set of chairs, 
which were intended for the king. The 
day commences with the Parisians, at an 
early hour, by the interchange of their 
visits and bon-bons. The nearest relations 
are visited first, until the furthest in blood 
have had their calls ; then friends and ac- 
quaintances. The conflict to anticipate 
each other's calls, occasions the most agree- 
able and whimsical scenes among these 
proficients in polite attentions. In these 
visits, and in gossiping at the confec- 
tioners' shops, which are the great lounge 
for the occasion, the morning of new 
year's day is passed ; a dinner is giver 
by some member of the family to all the 
rest, and the evening concludes, like 
Christmas day, with cards, dancing, or 
any other amusement that may be pre- 
ferred. One of the chief attractions to a 
foreigner in Paris is the exhibition, which 
opens there on new year's day, cf the 
finest specimens of the Sevres ciiinanianu- 


fac^urecl at tlie royal establishment in the 
neighbourhood of Versailles during the 
preceding year. 

Undoubtedly, new year's gifts origin- 
ated in heathen observances, and were 
grossly abused in after ages ; yet latterly 
they became a rational and pleasant mode 
of conveying our gentle dispositions to- 
wards those we esteem. Mr. Audley, in 
his compendious and useful " Companion 
to the Almanack," says, with truth, that 
they are innocent, if not praiseworthy ; 
and he quotes this amiable sentiment from 
Bourne : " If I send a new year's gift 
to my friend, it shall be a token of my 
friendship ; if to my benefactor, a token 
of my gratitude ; if to the poor, which at 
this season must never be forgot, it shall 
be to make their liearts sing for joy, and 
give praise and adoration to the Giver of 
all good gifts." The Jews on the first day 
of thi'ir new year give sumptuous enter- 
tainments, and joyfully wish each other 
*• a happy new year." This salutation 
is not yet obsolete even with us ; but the 
new year's gift seldom arrives, except to 
honest rustics from their equals ; it is 
scarcely remembered with a view to its 
use but by young persons, who, '• unvexed 
with all the cares of gain," have read or 
heard tell of such things, and who, with 
innocent hearts, feeling the kindness of 
the sentiment, keep up the good old cus- 
tom among one another, till mixture with 
the world, and " long experience, makes 
them sage," and sordid. 

New year's day in London is not ob- 
served by any public festivity; but little 
social dining parties are frequently formed 
amongst friends ; and convivial persons 
may be found at taverns, and in publicans* 
parlours, regaling on the occasion. Dr 
Forster relates, in his " Perennial Calen- 
dar," that many people make a point to 
wear some new clothes on this day, and 
esteem the omission as unlucky : the 
practice, however, from such motives, 
must obviously be confined to the unin- 
formed. The only open demonstration 
of joy in the metropolis, is the ringing of 
merry peals from the belfries of the nu- 
merous steeples, late on the eve of the 
new year, and until after the chimes of 
the clock have sounded its last hour. 

On new year's day the man of business 
opens new account-books. " A good be- 
ginning makes a good ending." Let every 
man open an account to himself; and 
to begin the new year that he may expect 
to say at its termination — it has been a 

good year. In the hilarity of the season 
let him not forget that to the needy it h 
a season of discomfort. 

There is a satisfdction 
la doing a good action : 

and he who devises liberal things will 
find his liberality return to him in a full 
tide of happiness. An economist can 
afford to be generous. " Give me neither 
poverty nor riches," prayed the wise man. 
To him who is neither encumbered by 
wealth, nor dispirited by indigence, the 
stores of enjoyment are unlocked. 

He who holds fast the Golden Mean, 
And lives contentedly between 

The little and the great, 
Feels not the wants that pinch the poor. 
Nor plagues that haunt the rich man's door 

Embitt'ring all his state. 

The tallest pines feel most the pow'r 
Of wintry blasts ; the loftiest tow'r 

Comes heaviest to the ground ; 
The bolts that spare the mountain's side 
His cloud capt eminence divide, 

And spread the ruin round. 

The well-inform'd philosopher 
Rejoices with a wholesome fear, 

And hopes, in spite of pain ; 
If Winter bellow from the North, 
Soon the sweet Spring comes dancing forth 

And Nature laughs again. 

U hindrances obstruct thy way. 
Thy magnanimity display, 

And let thy strength be seen ; 
But oh ! if fortune fill thy sail 
With more than a propitious gale, 

Take half thy canvass iu. 



1308. On the 1st of January in this 
year, William Tell, the Swiss patriot, as- 
sociated himself on this day with a band 
of his countrymen, against the tyranny of 
their oppressors. For upwards of three 
centuries the opposition was carried on, 
and terminated by the treaty of West- 
phalia in 1648, declaring the independ- 
ence of Switzerland. 

1651 . On the 1st of January Charles TL 
was crowned at Scone. king of the Scots 
Charles, when a child, was weak in the 
legs, and ordered to wear steel - boots. 
Their weight so annoyed hi-ni that he 
pined till recreation became labour. An 
old rocker took off the steel-boots, and 
concealed them ; promising the countess 
of Dorset, who was Charles's governess, 
that she would take any blame for tlio act 


on herself Soon afterwards the king, 
Charles I., coming into the nursery, and 
seeing his boy's legs without the boots, 
angrily demanded who had done it ? " It 
was I, sir," said the rocker, " who had 
the honour, some thirty years since, to at- 
tend on your highness, in your infancy, 
when you had the same infirmity where- 
with now the prince, your very own son 
is troubled ; and then the lady Gary, 
(afterwards countess of Monmouth) com- 
manded your steel-boots to be taken off, 
Avho, blessed be God, since have gathered 
strength, and arrived at a good stature." 
Clare, chaplain to Charles II., at the time 
the affair happened, related this anecdote 
to old Fuller, who in 1660, contemplating 
" the restoration," tells the story, and 
quaintly exclaims, " the nation is too 
noble, when his majesty shall return from 
foreign parts, to impose any other steel- 
boots upon him, than the observing the 
laws of the land, wliich are his own stock- 
ings, that so with joy and comfort he may 
enter on what was his own inheritance." 
The nation forgot the " steel-boots," and 
Charles forgot the " stockings." 

1801. January 1. The Union of Great 
Britain with Ireland commenced accord- 
ing to act of parliament, and the event 
was solemnized by the hoisting of a 
new royal flag on the Tower of London, 
accom])anied by the firing of guns there 
and in St. James's Park. On the 3d the 
king received the great seal of Great 
Britain from the lord chancellor, and 
causing it to be defaced, presented to him 
a new great seal for the United Kingdom. 
On the same day, January 1st, 1801, 
Piazzi, the astronomer at Palermo, dis- 
covered a new primary planet, making an 
eleventh of that order : he called it Ceres, 
from the goddess of that name, who was 
highly esteemed by the ancients of Sicily. 

Usually at this period the rigour of cold 
IS severely felt. The indisposition of lie-a- 
beds to face its severity is pleasantly pic- 
tured by Mr.Leigh Hunt, in a paper in the 
Indicator. He imagines one of those 
persons to express himself in these terms: 

" On opening my eyes, the first thing 
that meets them is ray own breath rolling 
forJh, as if in the open air, like smoke out 
of a cottage-chimney. Think of this 
symptom. Then I turn my eyes side- 
ways and see the window all frozen over. 
Think of that. Tlien the servant comes 

in. * It is very cold this mominfTj is jt 
not?' — ' Very cold, sir.' — ' Very cold 
indeed, isn't it .'' — ' Very cold indeed, 
sir.' — ' More than usually so, isn't it, 
even for this weather?' (Here the ser- 
vant's wit and good nature are put to a 
considerable test, and the inquirer lies on 
thorns for the answer.) ' Why, Sir . . . 
. . I think it is.' (Good creature ! There 
is not a better, or more truth-telling ser- 
vant going.) ' I must rise, however — 
Get me some warm water.' — Here comes 
a fine interval between the departure of 
the servant and the arrival of the hot 
water ; during which, of course, it is of 
' no use' to get up. The hot water 
comes. * Is it quite hot V — ' Yes, sir.' 
— ' Perhaps too hot for shaving : 1 must 
wait a little ?' — ' No, sir ; it will just do.' 
(There is an over-nice propriety some- 
times, an officious zeal of virtue, a little 
troublesome.) * Oh — the shirt — you 
must air my clean shirt : — linen gets very 
damp this weather.' — 'Yes, sir.' Here 
another delicious five minutes. A knock 
at the door. ' Oh, the shirt — very well. 
My stockings — I thmk the stockings ha-d 
better be aired too.' — ' Very well, sir.' 
— Here another interval. At length every 
thing is ready, except myself I now 
cannot help thinking a good deal — who 
can ? — upon the unnecessary and villain- 
ous custom of shaving ; it is a thing so 
unmanly (here I nestle closer) — so effe- 
minate, (here I recoil from an unlucky step 
into the colder part of the bed.) — No w on- 
der, that the queen of Fiance took part 
with the rebels against that degenerate 
king, her husband, who first affronted her 
smooth visage with a face like her own. 
The emperor Julian never showed the 
luxuriancy of his genius to better advan- 
tage than in reviving the flowing beard. 
Look at cardinal Bembo's picture — at 
Michael Angelo's — at Titian's — at Shak 
speare's — at Fletcher's — at Spenser's — at 
Chaucer's — at Alfred's — at Plato's. I 
could name a great man for every tick of 
my watch. Look at the Turks, a grave 
and otiose people — Tliink of Haroun A) 
Raschid and Bed-ridden Hassan — Think 
of Wortley Montague, the worthy son of 
his mother, a man above the prejudice of 
his time — Look at tlie Persian gentlemen, 
whom one is ashamed of meeting about 
the suburbs, their dress and appearance 
are so much finer than our own — Lastly, 
think of the razor itself — how totally op- 
posed to every sensation of bed — how 
cold, how eagy, how hard ! how utterly 


different fi> m any thing like the narm 
and circling amplitude, which 

Sweetly recommends itself 
Unto oui gentle senses. 

Add t«> this, benumbed fingers, which 

may help you to cut yourself, a quivering 
body, a frozen towel, and an ewer full of' 
ice ; and he that says there is nothing to 
oppose in all this, only shows, at any rate 
that he has no merit in opposing it." 


This engraving represents simple me- 
thods by which, at this season especially, 
the health of young persons may be 
maintained, and the constitution invigo- 
rated. Two round parallel bars at two 
feet distance from each other, on round 
standards three or four feet high, firmly 
fixed in the ground, will afford boys the 
means of actively exerting their limbs and 
muscles : and if the ends of a pole be let 
into opposite walls or fastened to trees, 
the boys may be taught to climb single 
ropes, and hold on while swinging by 
them. The engraving is placed before 
the eyes of parents and teachers with the 
hope of directing their attention to gym- 
nastic exercises, as diversions for youth, 
and they are referred to a practical trea- 
tise on the subject by Mr. Clias, that may 
be safely used. His judicious reasoning 
must convince every reader of their im- 
portance to the rising generation, and 
that it is within the means of all classes 
of persons to let boys acquire a know- 
J«Jge of the feats represented in the 

plates to his work, for teaching which 
his explanations are numerous and clear. 

/4ii unseasonable occurrence in the 
cellar of the late sir Joseph Banks may be 
acceptable in the mention, and excite 
particular sympathy in persons who re- 
create with the juice of the vine : as a fact, 
it may tend to elucidate the origin and 
nature of vegetable fungi, particularly of 
that species termed mushroom. The 
worthy baronet had a cask of wine rather 
too sweet for immediate use ; he therefore 
directed that it should be placed in a cel- 
lar, in order that the saccharine matter it 
contained might be more perfectly decom- 
posed by age. At the end of three years, he 
directed his butler to ascertain the state of 
the wine, when, on attempting to open the 
cellar door, he could not effect it, in conse- 
quence of some powerful obstacle. The 
door was cut down, and the cellar found 
to be completely filled with a firm fungous 
vegetable production — so firm that it waj 



necessary to use the axe for its removal. 
This appeared to have grown from, or 
have been nourished by, the decomposed 
particles of the wine : the cask was empty, 
and carried up to the ceiling, where it 
was supported by the surface of the 

anticipate with calm delight the entrance 
of the new year, and lift his eyes to the 
living lustres of the firmament with grate- 
ful feelings. They shine out their prismatic 
colours through the cold thin air, keeping 
watch while man slumbers, or cheering 
him, who contemplates their files, to pur- 
poses of virtue. In this season 

At the close of this day he who can 
reflect with satisfaction on the past, may 

The night comes calmly forth, 

Bringing sweet rest upon the wings of even . 
The golden wain rolls round the silent north. 
And earth is slumbering 'neath the smiles of heaven. 


Bamiarp 2. 

St. Macarius ; St. Concordius ; St. 

Adalard or Alard. 
St. Macarius. a.d. 394. Alban Butler 
says he was a confectioner of Alexandria, 
who, in the Hower of his age, spent 
upwards of sixty years in the deserts in 
labour, penance, and contemplation. "Our 
saint," says Butler, " happened one day 
inadvertently to kill a gnat, that was biting 
him in his cell ; reflecting that he had lost 
the opportunity of suffering that mortifi- 
cation, he hastened from his cell for the 
marshes of Scetfe, which abound with 
great flies, whose stings pierce even wild 
boars. There he continued six months, 
exposed to those ravaging insects ; and to 
such a degree was his whole body dis- 
figured by them, with sores and swellings, 
that when he returned he was only to be 
known by his voice." The Golden Legend 
relates of him, that he took a dead pagan 
out of his sepulchre, and put him under 
his head for a pillow ; whereupon certain 
devils came to afiiight the saint, and called 
the dead pagan to go with them ; but the 
body under the saint said he could not, 
because a pilgrim lay upon him, so that 
he could not move ; then Macarius, no- 
thing afraid, beat the body with his fist, and 
told him to go if he would, which caused 
the devils to declare that Macarius had 
vanquished them. Another time the 
devil came with a great scythe on his 
shoulder, to smite the saint, but he covdd 
not prevail against him, on accent of his 
virtues. Macarius, at another time, being 
tempted, filled a sack with stones, and 
bore it many journies through the desert. 
Seeing a devil before him in the shape of 
a man, dressed like " a herawde," with 
his clothing full of holes, and in every hole 
a phial, he demanded of this devil whither 
he went ; and why he had so many phials? 

the devil answered, to give drink to tlie 
hermits ; and that the phials contained a 
variety of liquors, that they might have 
a choice, and so fall into temptation. On 
the devil's return, the saint inquired how 
he had sped ; and the devil answered very 
evil, for they were so holy that only one 
Theodistus would drink : on this inform- 
ation Macarius found Theodistus under 
the influences of tlie phial, and recovered 
him. Macarius found the head of a pagan, 
and asked where the soul of its body 
was : in hell, said the head : he asked the 
head if hell was deep ; — the head said 
deeper than from heaven to earth : he de- 
manded again, if there were any there 
lower than his own soul — the head said 
the Jews were lower than he was: the 
saint inquired if there were any lower 
than the Jews — the head answered, the 
false Christian-men were lower than the 
Jews, and more tormented : there the 
dialogue between the saint and the head 
appears to have ended. Macarius seems, 
by the Golden Legend, to have been much 
annoyed by the devil. In a nine days' 
journey through a desert, at the end o{ 
every mile he set up a reed in the earth, 
to mark his track against he returned ; 
but the devil pulled them all up, made a 
bundle of them, and placed them at Ma- 
carius's head, while he lay asleep, so that 
the saint with great difficulty found his 
way home again. 

St. Adalard, according to Butler, waj 
grandson of Charles Martel, brother to 
king Pepin, and cousin-german to Charle- 
magne, who created him a count : he left 
his court in 773, became a monk at Corbie 
in Picardy, died in 827, aged seventy- 
three, and wrought m.iracles, which pro- 
cured his body to be enshrined with great 
pomp in 1010, a history of which solem- 
nity is written by St. Gerard, who com- 
posed an office in St. Adalaid's honour, be 



<^ause through his intercession he had 
been cured of. a violeiii head-ache. — 
The same St. Gerard relates seven other 
miracles by S .. Adalard of the same nature, 
liutler says, his relics are still at Corbie, 
ill a rich shrine, and two smaller cases, 
except a small portion given to the abbey 
of Chelles, 

The first Monday after new year's day 
is called Handsel Monday in some parts 
of Scotland, and is observed by merry- 
making. In sir J. Sinclair's " Statistical 
Account," it is related of one William 
Hunter, a collier, that he was cured in 
the year 1758 of an inveterate rheuma- 
tism or gout, by drinking freely of new 
ale, full of barm or yeast. " Tlie poor 
man had been confined to his bed for a 
year and a h.ilf, having almost entirely 
lost the use of his limbs. On the evening 
of Handsel Monday, as it is called, some 
of his neighbours came to make merry 
with him. Though he could not rise, yet 
he always took his share of the ale, as it 
passed round the company ; and, in the 
end, became much intoxicated. The con- 
sequence was, that he had the use of his 
limbs the next morning, and was able to 
walk about. He lived more than twenty 
years after this, and never had the smallest 
return of his old complaint.''' This is a 
fact worth remembering, as connected 
with chronical complaints. 


On the 2d of January, a. d. 17, Ovid 
the celebrated Roman poet died: he was 
born at Sulmo on the 20th of March, 
forty-three years before the Christian era. 
His father designed him for the bar, and 
he became eminently eloquent, but every 
thing he wrote was expressed in poetical 
numbers ; and though reminded by his 
lather, that even Homer lived and died 
in poverty, he preferred the pleasures of 
i iiagination to forensic disputation He 
/gained great admiration from the learned. 
Virgil, Horace, Tibullus, and Propertius, 
were his friends, and Augustus became 
his liberal patron, till he banished him for 
some unknown cause. In his exile he 
was cowardly, and prostituted his pen to 
flatter baseness ; and though he desired 
the death of the emperor, he fawned upon 
him in his writings to meanness. He died 
fit Tomos on the Euxine sea, the place of 
his binishment, under the reign of Tibe- 
rius, who had succeeded Augustus, and 
was deaf to the poet's entreaties for per- 

mission to return to Rome. Whatever 
subject Ovid wrote on, he exhausted; he 
painted nature with a masterly hand, and 
his genius imparted elegance to vulgarity ; 
but he defiLd the sweetness of his num- 
bers by impurity, and though he ranks 
among the splendi 1 ornaments of ancient 
literature, he sullied his fame by the 
grossest immorality in some of his finest 

Livy , the Roman historian, died at Padua 
on the same day and in the same year with 
Ovid. His history of the Roman Empire 
was in one hundred and forty books, of 
which only thirty-five are extant. Five of 
these were discovered at Worms in 1431, 
and some fragments are said to have been 
lately discovered at Hercu' 'iipum. Few 
particulars of his life are uwn, but his 
fame was great even while he lived, and 
his history has rendered him immortal 
He wrote some philosophical treatises 
and dialogues, with a letter to his son on 
the merit of authors, which Dr. Lem- 
priere says, ought to be read by young 

In the Literary Pocket Book there art 
some seasonable facts which may be 
transplanted with advantage to the reader, 
and, it is hoped, without disadvantage to 
the writer of the articles. He says that 
a man is infinitely mistaken, who thinks 
there is nothing worth seeing in winter- 
time out of doors, because the sun is not 
warm, and the streets are muddy. " Let 
him get, by dint of good exercise, out oJ 
the streets, and he shall find enough. In 
the warm neighbourhood of towns he may 
still watch the field-fares, thrushes, and 
blackbirds ; the titmouse seeking its food 
through the straw-thatch ; the red-wings, 
field-fares, sky-larks, and tit-larks, upon 
the same errand, over wet meadows; the 
sparrows and y:Uow-hammers, and chaf- 
finches, still beautiful though mute, glean- 
ing from the straw and chaff in farm- 
yards ; and the ring-dove, always poetical, 
coming for her meal to the ivy-berries. 
About rapid stre-ams he may see the va- 
rious habits and movements of herons, 
wood-cocks, wild-d icks, and other water- 
fowl, who are obliged to quit the frozen 
marshes to seek their food there. The 
red-breast comes to the windows, and 
often into the house itself, to be rewarded 
for its song, and for its far-fyined * pain- 
ful' obsequies to the Children iu the 



SJanuarp 3. 

St. Genevievj. St. Anterns, Pope. St. 
Gordius. St. Peter Balsam. 

St. Genevieve, Patroness of Paris. 

Alban Butler aftirms that she was 
born in 422, at Nanterre, four miles from 
Paris, near the present Calvary there, 
and that she died a virgin on this day 
in 512, and was buried in 545, near the 
steps of the high altar in a magnificent 
church, dedicated to St. Peter and St. 
Paul, began by Clovis, where he also was 
interred. Her relics were afterwards 
taken up and put into a costly shrine 
about 630. Of course they worked mira- 
cles. Her shrine of gold and silver, 
covered with precious stones, the presents 
of kings and aneens, and with a cluster 
of diamonds on the top, presented by the 
intriguing Mary de Medicis, is, on cala- 
mitous occasions, carried about Paris in 
procession, accompanied by shrines 
equally miraculous, and by the canons 
of St Genevieve walking bare-foot. 

The miracles of St. Genevieve, as re- 
lated in the Golden Legend, were equally 
numerous and equally credible. It relates 
that when slie was a child, St. Gerinaine 
said to her mother, " Know ye for certain 
that on the day of Genevieve's nativity 
the angels sung with joy and gladness," 
and looking on the ground he saw a 
penny signed with the cross, which came 
there by the will of God ; he took it up, 
and gave it to Genevieve, requiring her 
to bear in mind that she was the spouse 
of Christ. She promised him accordingly, 
and often went to the minster, that she 
might be worthy of her espousals. "Then," 
says the Legend, " the mother was angry, 
and smote her on the cheek — God avenged 
the child, so that the mother became blind," 
and so remained for one and twenty months, 
when Genevieve fetched her some holy 
water, signed her with the sign of the 
cross, washed her eyes, and she recovered 
her sight. It further relates, that by the 
Holy Ghost she showed many people their 
secret thoughts, and that from fifteen 
years to fifty she fasted every day except 
Sunday and Thursday, when she ate 
beans, and barley-bread of three weeks 
old. Desiring to build a church, and 
dedicate it to St. Denis and other martyrs, 
she required materials of the priests for 
(hat purpose. " Dame," answered the 
Driests, " we would ; but we can get no 
chalk nor lime." She desired them to go 
to the bridge of Paris and bring what 

they found there. They did so till twc 
swineherds came by, one of whom said 
to the other, " I went yesterday after one 
of my sows a^d found a bed of lime;" 
the other replied that he had also found 
one under the root of a tree that the 
wind had blown down. St. Genevieve's 
priests of course inquired where these 
discoveries were made, and bearing the 
tidings to Genevieve the church of St. 
Denis was began. During its progress 
the workmen wanted drink, whereupon 
Genevieve called for a vessel, prayed over 
it, signed it with the cross, and" the 
vessel was immediately filled; " so," says 
the Legend, "the workmen drank their 
belly full," and the vessel continued to 
be supplied in the same way with "drink" 
for the workmen till the church was 
finished. At another time a woman stole 
St. Genevieve's shoes, but as soon as she 
got home lost lier sight for the theft, and 
remained blind, till, having restored the 
shoes, St. Genevieve restored the woman's- 
sight. Desiring the liberation of certain 
prisoners condemned»to death at Paris, 
she went thither and found the city gates 
were shut against her, but they opened 
without any other key than her own pre- 
sence. She prayed over twelve men in 
that city possessed with devils, till the 
men were suspended in the air, and the 
devils were expelled. A child of four 
years old fell in a pit and was killed ; 
St. Genevieve only covered her with 
her mantle and prayed over lier, and the 
child came to life and was baptized at 
Easter. On a voyage to Spain she ar- 
rived at a port "where, as of custom, ships 
were wont to perish." Iler own vessel 
was likely to strike on a tree in the water, 
which seems to have caused the wrecks; 
she commanded the tree to be cut down, 
and began to pray ; when lo, just as the 
tree began to fall, " two wild heads, 
grey and horrible, issued thereout, which 
stank so sore, that the people that were 
there were envenomed by the space of 
two hours, and never after perished ship 
there; thanks be to God and this holy 

At Meaux, a master not forgiving his 
servant his faults though St, Genevieve 
prayed him, she prayed against him. He 
was immediately seized with a hot ague ; 
" on the morrow he came to the holy 
virgin, running with open mouth like a 
German bear, his tongue hanging out 
like a boar, and requiring pardon." She 
then blessed him, the fevei left him, and 



the servatit was pardoned. A girl going 
by with a bottle, St. Genevieve called to 
ner, and asked what she carried, she 
answered oil, which she had bought; 
but St. Genevieve seeing the devil sitting 
on the bottle, blew upon it, and the 
bottle broke, but the saint blessed the 
oil, and caused her to bear it home safely 
notwithstanding. The Golden Legend 
says, that the people who saw this, mar- 
velled that the saint could see the devd, 
and were greatly edified. 

It was to be expected that a saint oi 
such miraculous powers in her lifetime 
should possess them after her death, and 
accordingly the reputation of her relics 
is very high. 

Several stories of St. Genevieve's mi- 
raculous faculties, represent them as very 
convenient in vexatious cases of ordinary 
occurrence ; one of these will serve as a 
specimen. On a dark wet night she 
was going to church with her maidens, 
with a candle borne before her, which 
the wind and rain put out; the saint 
merely called for the candle, and as soon 
as she took it in her hand it was lighted 
again, "without any fire of this world." 

Other stories of her lighting candles 
in this way, call to mind a candle, greatly 
venerated by E. Worsley in a " Discourse 
of Miracles wrought in the Roman Ca- 
tholic Church, or, a full Refutation of Dr. 
Stiliingfleet's unjust Exceptions against 
Miracles," octavo, 1676. At p. 64, he 
says, " that the miraculous ivax candle, 
yet seen at Arras, the chief city of Artois, 
may give the reader entertainment, being 
most certain, and never doubted of hy 
any. In 1105, that is, much above 768 
years ago, (of so great antiquity the can- 
dle is,) a merciless plague reigned in 
Arras. The whole city, svet devout to 
tlie Mother of God, experienced her, in 
this their necessity, to be a true mother 
of mercy : the manner was thus. The 
Virgin Mary appeared to two men, and 
enjoined them to tell the bishop of Arras, 
that on the next Saturday towards morn- 
ing she would appear in the great church, 
and put into his hands a wax candle 
burning ; from whence drops of wax 
should fall into a vessel of water pre- 
paied by the bishop. She said, more- 
over, that all the diseased that drank of 
this water, should forthwith be cured. 
This trull/ promised, truly happened. Our 
blessed Lady appeared all beautiful, hav- 
ing in her hands a wax candle burning, 

which diffused light over the whole church; 
this she presented to the bishop ; he, 
blessing it with the sign of the cross, set 
It in the urn of water ; when drops of 
wax plentifully fell down into the vessel. 
The diseased drank of it, all were cured, 
the contagion ceased, and the candle to 
this day preserved with great veneration, 
spends itself, yet loses nothing; and 
therefore remains still of the same length 
and greatness it did 500 years ago. A 
vast quantity of wax, made up of the 
many drops which fall into the water 
upon those festival days, when the candle 
burns, may be justly called a standing, 
indeficient miracle." 

This candle story, though gravely related 
by a catholic writer, as "not doubted oi 
by any," and as therefore not to be 
doubted, miraculously failed in con- 
vincing the protestant Stillingfleet, that 
" miracles wrought in the Roman catholic 
church," ought to be believed. 

1639. A manuscript entitled "Com- 
mentaries of the Civil Wars, from 1638 
to 1648," written by Sir Henry Slingsby, 
bart, a royalist, intimates the struggle, 
then approaching, between Charles I. 
and the nation. He says, " The 3d of 
January, 1639, 1 went to I3ramham-house, 
out of curiosity, to see the training of the 
light-horse, for which service I had sent 
two horses, by commandment of the lieu- 
tenant and sir Joseph Ashley ,who is lately 
come down, with special commission 
from the king to train and exercise 
them. These are strange spectacles to 
this nation in this age, that has iived 
thus long peaceably, without noise of 
drum or of shot, and after we have stood 
neuter, and in peace, when all the world 
besides hath been in arms." The " train- 
ing" was preparatory to the war with 
the Scots, the resistance of the commons 
in parliament, and its levies of troops 
to oppose the royal will. 

" 'J'lie armourers 

With busy hammers closing rivets up 
Gave dreadful note of preparation :' 

the conflict ended in the death of Charles 
on the scaffold, the interregnum, the 
restoration, and the final expulsion of 
the Stuart race. 

S)anuarp 4. 

St. Titus, disciple of St. Paul. St. Gre- 
gory, bishop of Langres St Rigobert 
or Robert. St Rumvju 



Sf. Enmon. 
Alban Butler informs us, from William 
of Malmsbury, that he was a bishop, 
though of what nation or see is unknown, 
and that his name is in the English 
martyrology. Cressy says, that his body 
was buried at Tavistock, where, about 
960, Ordgar, count of Devonshire, father 
to Elfrida, the second wife of king 
Edgar, built a monastery " very agreeable 
and pleasant, by reason ot the great 
variety of woods, pastures, and rivers 
abounding with fish." St. Rumon con- 
secrated the church. About thirty years 
afterwards, the monastery was destroyed 
and burnt by the Danes. It is memora- 
ble, that Edulf, a son of Ordgar, buried 
in that monastery, was a man of gigantic 
stature, and of such wonderful strength, 
that going to Exeter, and finding the 
gates shut and barred, he broke the 
outer iron bars with his hands, burst 
open the gates with his foot, tore the 
locks and bolts asunder, and broke down 
part of the wall. 

1568. On the 4th of January Roger 
Ascham died, and was buried at St. 
Sepulchre's church, London. He was 
born in Yorkshire about 1515, and is 
celebrated for his learning, for having 
been tutor and Latin secretary to queen 
Elizabeth, and for having written " the 
Scholemaster." This work originated 
from mention having been made at din- 
ner that some Eton scholars " had run 
away from school for fear of beating." 
Ascham expressed his opinion that 
" young children were sooner allured by 
love, than driven by beating, to attain 
good learning.'' He then retired up 
stairs " to read with the queen's majesty : 
we read then together that noble oration 
of Demosthenes against TF.schines, for his 
false dealing in his embassy to king 
Philip of Macedon ; sir Richard Sack- 
ville came up soon after." Sackville 
tookAscham aside, " A fond (silly) school- 
master," said sir Richard, " before I was 
fully fourteen years old, drove me so, 
with fear of beating, from all love of 
(earning, as now, when I know what dif- 
ference it is to have learning, and to have 
little, or none at all, I feel it my greatest 
grief, and find it my greatest hurt, that 
ever came to me, that it was so my ill 
chance, to light upon so lewd (ignorant) 
a schoolmaster. The whole conversa- 
tion was very interesting, and so im- 

pressed Ascham with its nuportance, 
that he says, he " thought to prepare 
some little treatise for a new-year's gift 
that Christmas,'' but it grew beneath 
his hands and became his " Schole- 
master, showing a plain and perfect way 
of teaching the learned languages." 
The best edition of this work, which 
Ascham did not live to publish, is that 
edited by the Rev. James Upton, 1743, 
octavo. The book was first printed by 
Ascham's widow, whom with her chil- 
dren he left in distress. It was emi- 
nently serviceable to the advancement of 
teachers and pupils, at a period when it 
was the fashion to flog. Its most remark- 
able feature is the frowning down of this 
brutal practice, which, to the disgrace of 
our own times, is still heard of in certain 
seminaries, both public and private. The 
good old man says, " Beat a child if he 
dance not well, and cherish him though 
be learn not well, ye shall have him un- 
willing to go to dance, and glad to go tc 
his book : knock him always when he 
draweth his shaft ill, and favour him 
again though he fault at his book, ye 
shall have him very loth to be in the 
field, and very willing to go to school." 
He observes, " If ever the nature of man 
be given at any time, more than another, 
to receive goodness, it is in innocency of 
young years before that experience of 
evil have taken root in him. For the 
pure, clean wit of a sweet young babe, 
is like the newest wax, most able to re- 
ceive the best and fairest printing ; and 
like a new bright silver dish never occu- 
pied, to receive and keep clean any good 
thing that is put into it. Therefore, to 
love or to hate, to like or contemn, to 
ply this way or that way, to good or to 
bad, ye shall have as ye use a child in 
his youth." He exemplifies this by a 
delightful anecdote of the young, beauti- 
ful, and accomplished lady Jane Grey, 
who shortly afterwards perished by the 
axe of the executioner. Ascham, before 
he went into Germany, visited Broad- 
gate in Leicestershire, to take leave of 
her. " Her parents, the duke and 
duchess, with all the household, gentle- 
men and gentlewomen, were hunting in 
the park. I found Aer," says Ascham, 
*' in her chamber, reading Phaedo Platcnis 
in Greek, and that with as much delight, 
as some gentlemen would read a merry 
tale in Boccace. After salutation, and 
duty done, with some other talk, I asked 
her, why she would lose such pastime 



in the park ? Smiling, she answered 
me : 

" * I wist, all their sport in the park is 
but a shadow to that pleasure that I find 
in Plato. Alas! good-folk, they never 
felt what true pleasure meant.' 

" ' And how came you, madam,' quoth 
I, ' to this deep knowledge of pleasure ? 
And what did chiefly allure you unto it, 
seeing not many women, but very few 
men, have attained thereunto V 

" ' I will tell you,' quoth she, ' and tell 
you a truth, which perchance you will 
marvel at. One of the greatest benefits 
that ever God gave me, is, that he sent me 
so sharp and severe parents, and so gentle 
a schoolmaster. For when I am in pre- 
sence either of father or mother, whether 
I speak, keep silence, sit, stand, or go, 
eat, drink, be merry, or sad, he sewing, 
playing, dancing, or doing any thing else, 
X must do it, as it were, in such weight, 
measure, and number, even so perfectly, 
as God made the world ; or else I am so 
sharply taunted, so cruelly threatened, 
yea presently sometimes with pinches, 
nips, and bobs, and other ways (which I 
will not name for the honour 1 bear them) 

so without measure misordered, that I 
think myself in hell, till time come that 
I must go to Mr. Elmer ; who teachetL 
me so gently, so pleasantly, with such 
fair allurements to learning, that I think 
all the time nothing, while I am with him ; 
and when I am called from him, I fall on 
weeping, because whatsoever I do else, 
but learning, is full of grief, trouble, fear, 
and whole misliking unto me : and thus 
my book hath been so much my pleasure, 
and bringeth daily to me more pleasure 
and more, that in respect of it, all other 
pleasures in very deed, be but trifles and 
troubles unto me.' " 

Surely this innocent creature's confes- 
sion, that she was won to the love of 
learning and her teacher by hrs gentle- 
ness, and the disclosure of her affliction 
under the severe discipline of her parents, 
are positive testimony to the fact, that 
our children are to be governed and 
taught by the law of kindness : nor let 
it detract from the force of the remark, 
that in connection with her artless feel- 
ings and blameless deportment, if hei 
hard fate call forth a versified effusion 

Young, beautiful, and learned Jane, intent 

On knowledge, found it peace ; her vast acquirement 
Of goodness was her fall ; she was content 

With dulcet pieasures, such as calm retirement 
Yields to the wise alone ; — her only vice 

Was vi.tue : in obedience to her sire 
And lord she died, with them, a sacrifice 

To their ambition : her own mild desire 
Was rather to be happy than be great ; 

For though at their request she claimed the crown. 
That they, thiough her, might rise to rule the state. 

Yet, the bright diadem, and gorgeous ihrone, 
She view'd as cares, dimming the dignity 
Of her unsalLe'd mind, and pure benignity. 

1815. On the 4th of January, died 
Alexander Macdonald, Esq., who is no 
other way remarkable, than for a chival- 
rous devotion to the family of Stuart. He 
raised a monument in the vale of Glen- 
finnyn, at the head of Lochshiel, in the 
county of Inverness, with a Latui, Gaelif, 
and English inscription, to commemo- 
rate the last open efforts of that fanuly, 
for the recovery of a crown they had 
forfeited by innumerable breaches of the 
laws, and whose aggressions on life and 
property being suffered, till 

" Non-resistance could no further go,*' 

they were excluded from the throne of the 
people, by the aristocracy and common- 
alty of England in parliament assembled. 
As evidence of the spirit that dictated 
such a memorial, and of the proper feel- 
ing which permits that spirit to be ex- 
pressed, in spite of its hostility to the 
principles that deposit>ed and continued 
the diadem of the commonwealth in the 
custody of the house of Hanover, the in 
scription on the monument is placed in 
the next column. It stands in English iu 
these words : 



On the 6po» where 


First raised Ins Standard, 

On the inth day of Au(;ust, MDCCXLV, 

When hemade the darinp and romantic attempt 

To recover a Thrune !ost by the imprudence of lii> 


This Column was erected by 



To commemorate the generovs ital, 

undaunted bravery, ami the invi>tiDle fidrluy^ 

Of his forefathers, and the rtjsf of those 

Who fought and bled ?n that 

Arduous ami nnforlunate citeri-rise, 

Tliia Pillar is now, 


Also become the Monument 

Of Its Amiable and accomplished Founder, 


Bf fore it was finished, 

V)\^i ir. Edinburgh on the 4th day of Januiiy, 


The " right line" of the Stuart race ter- 
minated in the late cardinal York. lie 
was the sfecond son of "the Pretender," and 
was born at Rome on the 26th of March 
1 725 ; where he was baptized by the name 
of Henry Benedict Maria Clemens : he 
died there in 1807, in the 83d year of his 
age In 1745 he went to France to head 
an aimy of fifteen thousand men, assem- 
bled at Dunkirk for the invasion of 
England. The battle of CuUoden settled 
" the arduous and unfortunate enter- 
prise," which the " amiable and accom- 
plished founder" of the monument com- 
memorates, and not a single transport left 
Dunkirk roads. As soon as Henry Bene- 
dict heard of the affair at CuUoden, he 
returned to Rome, entered into priest's 
orders, and in 1747 was made a cardinal 
by pope Benedict XIV. It was taunted 
by a former pope upon James II. that he 
" lost his kingdom for a mass ;" and it is 
certain that Henry Benedict was better 
qualified to take a red-hat and pull on 
and off red stockings, than to attempt 
the conquest of a free protestant nation. 

After the expulsion of pope Pius 
\'I. from " the chair of St. Peter," by 
the French, he tied from his splendid 
residences at Rome and Frascati to Ve- 
nice, infirm in health, distressed in cir- 
cumstanre.s, and at the age of seventy- 
ftve. He subsisted for awhile on the 
produce of some silver plate, which he 
had saved from the ruin of his property. 
By the friendly interference of sir John 
Cox Kippisley, the cardinal's situation 
was made known to his late majesty, and 
lord Minto had orders to remit him a 
present of 2000J., which he received in 
rebiuary 1000, with an intimation that 
he might draw for the same amount in 
the July following ; and sir J. C. Hippis- 
ley communicated to him, that an annuity 
of 4000/. would be at his service, so long 
as his circumstances might require it. 
This liberality was received and acknow- 
ledged by the cardinal in terms of grati- 
tude, and made a considenible impression 
on the reigniiig pope and his court. 
Tliese facts are extracted from the Gen- 
tleman's Magazine, (vols. 74 and 77,) 
which also observes, that " from the time 
he devoted himself to ecclesiastical ftinc 
tions he seemed to have laid aside all 
worldly views, till his father's death in 
1788, when he had medals .struck, bearing 
on their face his head, with ' Henrict.'S 
NONUS Anglic Rex ;' on the reverse, a 
city, with ' Gratia Dei, sed kon Vo- 
JUNiATE Hominum:' if we are not 
misinformed, our sovereign has one of 
•these medals." From one in the posses- 
sion of the compiler of this work, he is 
enabled to present an engraving of it 
to his readers. 


V(3L. 1. 




St. Simeon Scylites. St. Telesphorus. 
St. Syncletia. 

St. Simeon Stylites. 

his mortifications. In the monastery of 
Heliodorus, a man sixty-five years of age, 
who had spent sixty-two years so ab- 
stracted from the world, that he was 
ignorant of the most obvious things in it ; 

Alban Butler declares, that St. Simeon the monks ate but once a day : Simeon 
astonished the whole Roman empire by joined the community, and ate but once a 




week, lleliodorus required Simeon to 
be more private in his mortifications; 
" with this view," says Butler, " judging 
the rough rope of the well, made of 
twisted palm-tree leaves, a proper instru- 
ment of penance, Simeon tied it close 
about his naked body, where it remained 
unknown both to the community and his 
superior, till such time as it having ate 
into his flesh, what he had privately done 
was discovered by the effluvia proceeding 
from the wound." Butler says, that it 
took three days to disengage the saint's 
clothes, and that " the incisions of the 
physician, to cut the cord out of his body, 
were attended with such anguish and 
pain, that he lay for some time as dead." 
After this he determined to pass the whole 
forty days of Lent in total abstinence, 
and retired to a hermitage for that pur- 
pose. Bassus, an abbot, left with him 
ten loaves and water, and coming to visit 
him at the end of the forty days, found 
both loaves and water untouched, and the 
samt stretched on the ground without 
signs of life. Bassus dipped a sponge in 
water, moistened his lips, gave him the 
eucharist, and Simeon by degrees swal- 
lowed a few lettuce leaves and other herbs. 
lie passed twenty -six Lents in the same 
manner. Tn the first part of a Lent he 
prayed standing ; growing weaker he 
prayed sitting; and towards the end, being 
almost exhausted, he prayed lying on the 
ground. At the end of three years he 
left his hermitage for the top of a moun- 
tain, made an enclosure of loose stones, 
without a roof, and having resolved to 
live exposed to the inclemencies of the 
weather, he fixed his resolution by fasten- 
ing his right leg to a rock with a great 
iron chain. Multitudes thronged to the 
mountain to receive his benediction, and 
many of the sick recovered their health ; 
But as some were not satisfied unless they 
touched him in his enclosure, and Simeon 
desired retirement from the daily con- 
course, he projected a new and unprece- 
dented manner of life. He erected a 
pillar six cubits high, (each cubit being 
eighteen inches,) and dwelt on it four 
years; on a second of twelve cubits high 
he lived three years; on a third of twenty- 
two cubits high ten years ; and on a 
fourth of forty cubits, or sixty feet high, 
which the people built for him, he spent 
the last twenty years of his life. This 
occasioned him to be called styUtes, from 
the Greek word stylos, a pillar. This 
pillar did not exceed three feet in diame- 

ter at the top, so that he could noi lie ex- 
tended on it : he had no seat with him; 
he only stooped or leaned to take a little 
rest, and bowed his body in prayer so 
often, that a certain person who counted 
these positions, found that he made one 
thousand two hundred and forty-four 
reverences in one day, which if he began 
at four o'clock in the morning and fi.nished 
at eight o'clock at night, gives a bow to 
every three-quarters of a minute ; be- 
sides which he exhorted the people twice 
a day. His garments were the skins of 
beasts, he wore an iron collar round his 
neck, and had a horrible ulcer in his 
foot. During his forty days' abstinence 
throughout Lent, he tied himself to a pole. 
He treated himself as the outcast of the 
world and the worst of sinners, worked 
miracles, delivered prophecies, had the 
sacrament delivered to him on the pillar, 
and died bowing upon it, in the sixty-ninth 
of his age, after having lived upon pillars 
for six and thirty years. His corpse was 
carried to Antioch attended by the bishops 
and the whole country, and worked mi- 
racles on its way. So far this account 
is from Alban Butler. 

Without mentioning circumstances and 
miracles in the Golden Legend, which 
are too numerous, and some not fit to be 
related, it may be observed that it is there 
affirmed of him, that after his residence 
on the pillars, one of his thighs rotted a 
whole year, during which time he stood 
on one leg only. Near Simeon's pillar 
was the dwelling of a dragon, so very ve- 
nomous, that nothing grew near his cave. 
This dragon met with an accident ; lie 
had a stake in his eye, and coming all 
blind to the saint's pillar, and placing his 
eye upon it for three days without doing 
harm to any one, Simeon ordered earili 
and water to be placed on the dragon's 
eye, which being done, out came the 
stake, a cubit in length ; wlien the people 
saw this miracle, they glorified God, and 
ran away for fear of the dragon, whc 
arose and adored for two hours, and re- 
turned to his cave. A woman swallowed 
a little serpent, which tormented her for 
many years, tiH she came to Simeon, who 
causing earth and watei to be laid on hei 
mouth, the little serpent came out four 
feet and a half long. It is affirmed by the 
Golden Legend, that when Simeon died, 
Anthony smelt a precious odour proceeding 
from his body ; that the birds cried so, 
much, that both men and beasts cried; 
that an angel came down in a cloud; that 



the patriarch of Aiitiocli taking Simeon's 
beard to put among his rehcs, his hand 
withered, and remained so till niuUi- 
tudes of prayers were said for him, and 
it was healed : and that m.ore miracles 
were worked at and after Simeon's sepul- 
ture, than he had wrought all his life. 


1724. Jan. 5. An extraordinary instance 
of longevity is contained in a letter dated 
the 29th of January, 1724, from M. Ha- 
melbranix, the Dutch envoy at Vienna, to 
their high mightinesses the states general, 
and published in a Dutch dictionary, 
" Het Algemeen historisch, geographisch 
en genealoijisch Woordenbock," by Luis- 
cius. It relates to an individual who had 
attained the extraordinary age of one 
hundred and eighty-five years. 

" Czartan Petrarch, by religion a Greek, 
was born in the year 1539, and died on 
♦he 5th of January, 1724, at Kofrosch, a 
village four miles from Temeswaf, on the 
toad leading to Karansebes. He had 
lived, tlierefore, a hundred and eighty- 
five years. At the time when the Turks 
took Tenieswar from the Christians, he 
was employed in keeping his father's cattle. 
A few days before his death he had 
"valked, with the help of a stick, to the 
Dost-house at Kofrosch, to ask charity 
trom the travellers. His eyes were much 
inflamed, but he still enjoyed a little sight. 
His hair and beard were of a greenish, 
white colour, like mouldy broad ; and he 
had a few of his teeth remaining. His 
son, who was ninety-seven years of age, 
declared his father had once been the 
head taller ; that at a great age he married 

for the third time ; and that he was bort 
in this last marriage. He was accus- 
tomed, agreeably to the rules of his reli- 
gion, to observe fast days with great 
strictness, and never to use any other food 
than milk, and certain cakes, called by the 
Hungarians kollatschen, together with a 
good glass of brandy, such as io made in 
the country. He had descendants in the 
fifth generation, with whom he sometimes 
sported, carrying them in his arms. His 
son, though ninety-seven, was still fresh 
and vigorous. When field marshal count 
Wallis, the commandant of Temeswar, 
heard that this old man was taken sick, he 
caused a portrait of him to be painted, 
and when it was almost finished he ex- 

1808. Ealryin January, this year, the 
shaft of death supplied another case of 
longevity. At the advanced age of 110 
years, died Dennis Hampson, the blind 
bard of Maggiligan, of whom an interest- 
ing account has been given by lady 
Morgan, in " 'Die Wild Irish Girl." The 
" Athenifium," from whence this notice is 
extracted, relates, that only a few hours 
before his decease he tuned his harp, that 
he might have it in readiness to entertain 
sir H. Bruce's family, who were expected 
to pass that way in a few days, and who 
were in the habit of stopping to hear his 
music ; suddenly, however, he felt the ap- 
proach of death, and calling his family 
around him resigned his breath without a 
struggle, and in perfect possession of his 
faculties to the last moment. A kindred 
spirit produced the following tribute to the 
memory of this '* aged son of song." He 
was the oldest of the Irish bards 

The fame of the brave shall no longer be sounded, 
The last of our bards now sleeps cold in his grave ; 

Maggiligan rocks, where his lays have resounded. 
Frown dark at the ocean, and spurn at the wave. 

For, Hampson, no more shall thy soul -touching finger 
Steal sweet o'er the strings, and %vild melody pour ; 

No more near thy hut shall the villagers linger. 

While strains from thy harp warble soft round the shor"? 

No more thy harp swells with enraptured emotion. 

Thy wild gleams of fancy for ever are fled. 
No longer thy minstrelsy charms the rude ocean, 
That rolls near the green turf that pillows thy head. 

Vet vigour and youth with bright visions had fired thee. 
And rcse-huds of health have l<lown deep on thy clieek , 

The songs of the sweet hards of Erin inspired thee. 
And urged thee to wander like lav;rels to seek. 



Ves.oft hast thou sunn^ of our kings crown d with glory, 
Or, sigliing, repeatL-ii the lover's fond lay ; 

And oft hast thou smi-i; of the bards famed in story, 
Whose wild notes of rupture have long past away. 

riiy grave shall he screen'd from the blast and the billo*, 

Around it a fence shall posterity raise ; 
Erin's childien shall wet with their tears thy cold pillow. 

Her youths shall lament thee, and carol thy praise. 

Tliis is tiie eve of the Epiphany, or 
T svelfth-night eve, and is a night of pre- 
paration in some parts of England for the 
merriments which, to the present hour, 
distinguish Twelfth-day. Dr. Drake 
mentions that it was a practice formerly 
for itinerant minstrels to '^ar a bowl 
of spiced-wine to the houses of the gentry 
and others, from whom they exi)ected a 
hospitable reception, and, calling their 
bowl a wassail-bowl, to drink wassail to 
their entertainers. These merry sounds 
of mirth and music are not extinct There 
are still places wherein the wandering 
blower of a clarionet, and the poor scraper 

of as poor a fiddle, will this evening strain 
their instruments, to charm forth the 
rustic from his dwelling, and drink to him 
from a jug of warm ale, spiced with a 
race of ginger, in the hope of a pittance 
for their melody, and their wish of was- 
sail. Of the wassail-bowl, much will ap- 
pear before the reader in the after pages 
of this work. 

In certain parts of Devonshire, the 
farmer, attended by his workmen, with a 
large pitcher of cider, goes to the orchard 
this evening; and there, encircling one of 
the best bearing trees, they drink the fol- 
lowing toast three times : 

" Here's to thee, old apple-tree, 
"Whence thou mayst bud, and whence thou mayst blow ! 
And whence thou mayst bear apples enow ! 

Hats full ! caps full ! 

Bushel — bushel — sacks full. 

And my pockets full too ! Huzza !'' 

This done, they return to the house, the 
doors of which they are sure to find 
bolted by the females, who, be the wea- 
ther what it may, are inexorable to all en- 
treaties to open them till some one has 
guessed at what is on the spit, which is 
generally some nice little thing, difficult 
to be hit on, and is the reward of him who 
first names it. Tlie doors are then thrown 
open, and the lucky clod pole receives the 
tit-bit as his recompense. Some are so 
superstitious us to believe, that if they 
neglect this custom, the trees will bear no 
apples that year. To the preceding par- 
ticulars, which are related in the Gentle- 
man's Magazine for 1791, may be added 
that Brand, on the authority of a Cornish- 
man, relates it as a custom with the 
Devonshire people to go after supper into 
the orchard, with a large milk-pan full of 
cider, having roasted apples pressed into 
It. " Out of this each person in company 
takes, what is called a <;layen cup, that is 
an earthenware cup fijll of liquor, and 
Btauding under sach of the more fruitful 

apple-trees, passmg by those that ara not 
good bearers, he addresses it in the fol- 
lowing words : 
' Health to thee, good apple-tree, 
Well to bear, pocket-fulls, hat-fulls, 
Peck-fulls, bushel-bag-fulls I' 
And then drinking up part of tne contents, 
he throws the rest, with the fragments of 
the roasted apples, at the tree. At each 
cup the company set up a shout." 

Pennant, in his tour in Scotland, says 
respecting this custom, that after they 
have drank a cheerful glass to their mas- 
ter's health, with success to the future 
harvests, and expressed their good wishes 
in the same way, they feast off cakes made 
of caraways and other seeds soaked in 
cider, which they claim as a reward for 
theii past labours in sowing the grain, 
" This," says Pennant, " seems to resem- 
ble a custom of the ancient Danes, who, 
in their addresses to their rural deities 
emptied, on every mvocation, a cup in 
honour of them." 

So aJso Brand tells us that, in Here- 



foidshire, " at the approach of evening 
on the vigil of the twelfth day, the farm- 
ers, with their friends and servants, meet 
together, and about six o'clock walk out to 
a field where wheat is growing. In the 
highest part of the ground, twelve small 
fires and one large one are lighted up. The 
Attendants, headed by the master of the fa- 
mily, pledge the company in old cider,which 
circulates freely on these occasions. A 
circle is formed round the large fire, when 
a general shout and hallooing takes place, 
which you hear answered from all the ad- 
jacent villages and fields. Sometimes 
fifty or sixty of these fires may be all seen 
at once. This being finished, the com- 
pany return home, where the good house- 
wife and her maids are preparing a good 
supper. A large cake is always provided, 
with a hole in the middle. After supper, 
the company all attend the bailifl' (or 
head of the oxen) to the wain-house, 
where the following particulars are ob- 
served. The master, at the head of his 
friends, fills the cup, (generally of strong 
ale,) and stands opposite the first or finest 
of the oxen. He then pledges him in a 
carious toast : the company follow his ex- 
ample with all the other oxen, addressing 
each by his name. This being finished, 
the large cake is produced, and, with much 
ceremony, put on the horn of the first ox, 
through llie hole above-mentioned. The 
ox is then tickled, to make him toss his 
head : if he throw the cake behind, then 
it is the mistress's perquisite; if before, 
(in what is termed the boosy,) the bailiff 
himself claims the prize. The company 
then return to the house, the doors of 
which they find locked, nor will they be 
opened till some joyous songs are sung. 
On their gaining admittance, a scene of 
mirth and jollity ensues, and which lasts 
the greatest part of the night." 

Mr. Beckwith relates in the Gentle- 
man's Magazine, 1784, that " near Leeds, 
in Yorkshire, when he was a boy, it was 
customary for many families, on the 
twelfth eve of Cliristmas, to invite their 
relations, friends, and neighbours, to their 
houses, to play at cards, and to partake 
of a supper, of which minced pies were 
an indispensable ingredient; and after 
supper was brought in, the wassail cup or 
wassail bowl, of which every one partook, 
by taking with a spoon, out of the ale, a 
roasted apple, and eating it, and then 
drinking the healths of the company out 
of the bowl, wishing them a merry Christ- 
mas and a happy new year. (The festi- 

val of Christmas used in this part ol lh'3 
country to hold for twenty days, and some 
persons extended it to Candlemas.) The 
ingredients put into the bowl, viz, ale, 
sugar, nutmeg, and roasted apples, were 
usually called lambs'-wool, and the night 
on whicli it is used to be drunk (generally 
on the twelfth eve) was commonly called 
Wassil eve." The glossary to the Ex- 
more dialect has " Watsail — a drinking 
song on twelfth-day eve, throwing toast 
to the apple-trees, in order to have a 
fruitful year, which seems to be a relic oi 
the heathen sacrifice to Pomona." 

Brand found it observed in the ancient 
calendar of the Romish church, that on 
the fifth day of January, the eve or vigil 
of the Epiphany, there were " kings 
created or elected by beans ;" that the 
sixth of the month is called "The Festi- 
val of Kings ;" and " that this ceremony 
of electing kings was continued with 
feastii^g for many days." 

Twelfth-night eve or the vigil of the 
Epiphany is no way observed in London, 
There Twelfth-day itself comes with little 
of the pleasure that it offered to our fore- 
fathers. Such observances have rapidly 
disappeared, and the few that remain are 
still more rapidly declining. To those who 
are unacquainted with their origin they 
afford no associations to connect the pre- 
sent with former ages ; and without such 
feelings, the few occasions which enable 
us to show a hospitable disposition, or 
from whence we can obtain unconstrained 
cheerfulness, will pass away, and be re- 
membered only as having been. 

Samiarp 6* 

Evivlianv ^ ^'"^^ holiday at all public offices 
^ ^ •'■ I except Stamp, Customs, and Excise. 

St. Mdan'ms. St. Peter. St. Nilam 

St. Peter was a disciple of Gregory 
the Great, the first abbot of St. Augus- 
tine's monastery at Canterbury, and 
drowned in 608 while proceeding on a 
voyage to France. According to Cressy, 
the inhabitants buried his body without 
knowing any thing about him, till " a 
heavenly light appeared every night over 
his sepulture," when they held an inquest, 
and a count Fumert buried him in th'! 
church of Boulogne. F'rom a quotatioD 
in Patrick, it appears that a weasel who 
gnawed his robe was found dead upon it 
for his sauciness. 




The Rev Tliomas Dudley Fosbroke, 
M.A. F. A. S., &c. whose " Encyclopae- 
dia of Antiquities" has been already cited 
from, is the author of " British Monach- 
ism, or, Manners and Customs of the 
Monks and Nuns of England," 410.1817; 
a most erudite work, wherein he gives an 
account, from Du Cange, of the Feast of 
the Star, or Office of the Three Kings, 
a catholic service performed on this day. 
*' Three priests, clothed as kings, with 
their servants carrying offerings, met from 
different directions of the church before 
the altar. The middle one, who came 
from the east, pointed with his staff to a 
star : a dialogue then ensued ; and after 
kissing each other, they began to sing, 
' Let us go and inquire ;' after which the 
precentor b. gan a responsory, ' Let the 
Magi come.' A procession then com- 
menced, and as soon as it began to enter 
the nave, a crown like a star, hanging be- 
fore the cross, was lighted up, and point- 
ed out to the Magi, with ' Behold the 
star in the east.' This being concluded, 
two priests, standing at each side of the 
altar, answered, meekly, * We are those 
whom you seek,' and drawing a curtain 
showed them a child, whom, falling down, 
they worshipped. Then the servants 
made the offerings of gold, frankincense, 
and myrrh, which were divided among 
the priests. The Magi in the mean while 
continued praying till they dropped 
asleep ; when a boy clothed in an alb, 
like an angel, addressed them with, ' All 
things which the prophets said are ful- 
filled.' The festival concluded with 
chanting services, &c." 

Mr. Fosbroke adds, that at Soissons a 
rope was let down from the roof of the 
church, to which was annexed an iron 
circle, having seven tapers, intended to 
represent Lucifer, or the morning star. 

The three persons honoured by this 
service, and called kings, were the three 
wise men who, in catholic works, are 
usually denominated the Three Kings of 
Cologne. Cressy tells us, that the em- 
press Helena, who died about the year 
328, brought their bodies from the east to 
Constaminople ; from whence they were 

transferred to Milan, and afterwards, m 
1164, on Milan being taken by the em- 
peror Frederick, presented by him to the 
archbishop of Cologne, who put them in 
the principal church of that city, " in 
which place," says Cressy, " they are to 
this day celebrated with great veneration." 
Patrick quotes a prayer to them from the 
Romisli service, beginning " O, king Jas- 
par, king Melchior, king Balthasar;" and 
he says that the Salisbury Missal states 
their offerings to have been disposed of 
in this way : — " Joseph kept of the gold 
as much as him needed, to pay his tri- 
bute to the emperor, and also to keep our 
lady with while she lay in childbed, and 
the rest he gave to the poor. The incense 
he burnt to take off the stench of the sta- 
ble there as she lay in ; and with the 
myrrh, our lady anointed her child, to 
keep him from worms and disease." 
Patrick makes several observations on the 
service to these three kings of Cologne, 
and as to the credibility of their story; and 
he inquires what good this prayer will do 
to Jaspar, Melchior, and Balthasar, when 
another tradition says their names were 
Apellius, Amerus, and Damascus ; a 
third, that they were Magalath, Galga 
lath, and Sarasin ; and a fourth, Ator 
Sator, and Peratoras ? which last, Patrick 
says, he should choose in this uncertainty 
to call them by, as having the more kingly 
sound, if it had not been that Casaubon 
represents these three, " together with 
Misael, Achael, Cyriacus, and Stephanus, 
(the names of the four shepherds that 
came to visit our Lord in Bethlehem,) had 
been used (and he tells how) for a charm 
to cure the biting of serpents and other 
venomous beasts." Patrick gives other 
prayers to these three kings, one of them 
from the " Hours of the Virgin," and also 
quotes this miraculous anecdote ; that 
one John Apnlius, when he was hanged, 
implored the patronage of the three kings 
of Cologne ; the consequence of which 
seems to have been, that after he had been 
hung three days and was cut down, he 
was found alive ; whereupon he came to 
Cologne half naked, with his halter about 
his neck, and returned thanks to his 




Such are fhe scenes, that, at the front and side 

Of the Twelfth take-shops, scatter wild dismay; 
As up the slipp'ry curb, or pavement wide, 

We seek the pastrycooks, to keep Twelfth-day ; 
While ladies stand atrhast, in speechless trance, 
Look round— dare not go back— and yet dare not advance. 

Tn London, with every pastrycook in 
the city, and at the west end of the 
town, it is " high change" on Twelfth-day. 
From the taking down of the shutters in 
the morning, he, and his men, with addi- 
tional assistants, male and female, are 
fully occupied by attending to the dress- 
ing out of the window, executing orders 
of the day before, receiving fresh ones, or 
supplying the wants of chance customers. 
Before dusk the important arrangement 
of the window is completed. Tlien the 
gas is turned on, with supernumerary 
argand-lanips and manifold v/ax lights, to 

illuminate countless cakes of all prices and 
dimensions, that stand in rows and piles 
on the counters and sideboards, and in 
the windows. The richest in flavour and 
heaviest in weight and price are placed 
on large and massy salvers ; one, enor- 
mously superior to the rest in size, is the 
chief object of curiosity ; and all are de- 
corated with all imaginable images of 
things animate and inanimate. Stars, cas- 
tles, kings, cottages, dragons, trees, fish, 
palaces, cats, dogs, churches, lions, milk- 
maids, kniijhts, serpents, and innumera- 
ble othei forms in snov;--',hite confectiorv- 



ary, painted with varicgaie J colours, glit- 
ter by "excess of liglit " from mirrors 
aga nst the walls festooned with artificial 
" wonders of Flora." Tliis "paradise of 
dainty devices," is crowded by successive 
iiiid successful desireis of the seasonable; 
delicacies, while alternate tapping of ham- 
mers and peals of laughter, from the 
throng surrounding the house, excite 
Bmiles from the inmates. 

The cause of these sounds may be in- 
ferred from something like this passing 

Constable. Make way, make way ! 
Clear the way ! You boys stand aside ! 

Countryman. What is ah this ; Is any 
body ill in the shop ? 

1*^ Boy. Nobody, sir ; it's ow/y Twelfth 

2d Boy. Tills is a paxtrycook''s, 
sir; loek at the window! There they 
stand ! ff'/iat cakes ! 

3(1 Boy. What pretty ones these are ! 
4th Boy. Only see that ! 
5th Boy. Why it's as large as the hind- 
wheel of a coach, and how thick ! 

6th Boy. Ah ! it's too big to come out 
at the door, unless they roll it out. 

7th Boy. Wliat elegant figures, and 
what lots of sweetmeats! 

8th Boy. See the flowers ; they look 
almost like real ones. 

Countryman. What a crowd insiile ! 
9th Boy. How the people of the liouse 
are packing up all the good things ! 

Countryman. NVhat a beautiful lady 
that is behind the counter ! 
lOC/i Boy. Which?. 
Countryman. Why the young one ! 
\Qth Boy. What her? oh, she's the 
pastrycook's daughter, and the other's 
her mother. 

Countryman. No, no ; not her ; 1 
mean her, there. 

\Oth Boy. Oh, her ; she's the shop- 
woman ; all the pastrycooks always try 
to get handsome ladies to serve in the 

1 1 th Boy. I say, I say ! halloo ! here's 
a piece of work ! Look at this gentleman — 
next to me — his coat-tail's nailed to the 
window ! Look, look ! 
Countryman. Aye, what? 
All the boys. Ah ! ah ! ah ! Huzza. 
Countryman. Who nailed my coat-tail ? 
Constable ! 

\2th Boy. That's the boy that's got 
the hamnier ! 

2d Boy. What me ? why thafs the 
boy- -there ; and there's another boy ham- 

meiiiig! and there's a man with a ham- 
mer ! 

1st Boy. Who pinned that icoman 'o 
the gentleman? Why theie's a dozen 
pinned together. 

Countryman. Constable ! constable ! 
2nd Boy. Here comes the constable. 
Hark at him ! 

Const. Clear away from the doors ! Let 
the customers go in I Make way ! Let 
the cakes come out ! Go back, boy ! 

13<A Boy. If you please, Mr. Consta- 
ble, I'm going to buy a cake ! 
Const. Go forward, then ! 
Man with cukes. By your lei-e ! by 
your leave. 

Const. Clear the way ! 
^// the Boys. Huzza ! huzza ! More 
people pumed — and plenty nailed 

up ! 

To explain, to those who maj be igno- 
rant of the practice. On Twelfth- 
night in London, boys assemble round the 
inviting shops of the pastrycooks, and 
dexterously nail the coat-tails of specta- 
tors, who venture near enough, to the 
bottoms of the window frames ; or pin 
them together strongly by their clothes. 
Sometimes eight or ten persons find them- 
selves thus connected. The dexterity and 
forae of the nail driving is so quick and 
sure, that a single blow seldom fails ol 
doing the business effectually. With- 
drawal of the nail without a proper in- 
strument is out of the question ; and, con- 
sequently, the person nailed must either 
leave part of his coat, as a cognizance of 
his attachment, or quit the spot with a 
hole in it. At every nailing and pinning 
shouts of laughter arise from the perpe- 
trators and the spectators. Y'ct it often 
happens to one who turns and smiles 
at the duress of another, that he also finds 
himself nailed. Efforts at extrication in- 
crease mirth, nor is the presence of a con- 
stable, who is usually employed to attend 
and preserve free " ingress, egress, and 
regress," sufficiently awful to deter the 

Scarcely a shop in London that offers a 
halfpenny plain bun to the purchase of a 
hungry boy, is without Twelfth-cakes and 
finery in the windows on Twelfth-day 
The gingerbread-bakers — there are not 
many, compared with their number wnen 
the writer was a consumer of their manu- 
factured goods, — even the reduced gin- 
gerbread-bakers periwig a few plum-buns 
with sugar-frost to-day, and coaxmgly in- 
terpolate them among their new made 



sixes, bath-cakes, parliament, and ladies' 
fingers. Their staple-vare has leaves of 
untarnished dutch-gilt stuck on ; their up- 
right cylinder-shaped show-glasses, con 
taining peppermint-drops, elecampane, 
sugar-slicks, hard-bake, brandy-balls, and 
bulls'-eyes, are carefully polished ; their 
lolly-pops are fresh encased, and look 
as white as the stems of tobacco-pipes ; 
and their candlesticks are ornamented 
with fillets and bosses of writing paper ; 
or, if the candles rise from the bottom of 
mverted glass cones, they shine more 
sparkling for the thorough cleaning of 
their receivers in the morning. 

How to eat Twelfth-cake requires no 
recipe ; but how to provide it, and draw 
the characters, on the authority of Rachel 
Revel's " Winter Evening Pastimes,'' 
may be acceptable. First, buy your cake. 
Then, before your visitors arrive, buy 
your characters, each of which should 
liave a pleasant verse beneath. Next look 
at your invitation list, and count the num- 
ber of ladies you expect ; and afterwards 
the number of gentlemen. Then, take as 
many female characters as you have in- 
vited ladies; fold them up, exactly of the 

same size, and number each on the back ; 
taking care to make the king No. 1, and 
the queen No. 2. Then prepare and 
number the gentlemen's characters. Clause 
tea and coffee to be handed to your visit- 
ors as they diop in. When all are as- 
sembled and tea over, put as many ladies 
characters in a reticuk as there are ladies 
present ; next put the gentlemen's cha- 
racters in a hat. Then call on a gentle- 
man to carry the reticule to the ladies as 
they sit, from which each lady is to draw 
one ticket, and to preserve it unopened. 
Select a lady to bear the hat to the gen- 
tlemen for the same purpose. There will 
be one ticket left in the reticule, and ano- 
ther in the hat, which the lady and gen- 
tleman who carried each is to interchange, 
as having fallen to each. Next, arrange 
your visitors according to their numbers ; 
the king No.l, the queen No. 2, and so 
on. The king is then to recite the verse 
on his ticket ; then the queen the verse on 
hers ; and so the characters are to proceed 
in numerical order. This done, let the 
cake and refreshments go round, and heyl 
for inciviment I 

Tiiey come ! they ccme I each blue-eyed sport. 
The Twelfth-night king anil all liiis court — 

Tis Mirth fresh crown'd with mistletoe \ 
Music with her merry fiddles, 

Joy " on light fantastic toe," 
Wit with all his jests and riddles, 

Singing and dancing as they go. 
And Love, young Love, among the rest, 
A welcome — nor unbidden guest. 

Twelfth-day is now only commemorated 
by the custom of choosing king and queen. 
" I went," says a correspondent in the 
Universal Magazineforl774," to a friend's 
house in the country to partake of some 
of those innocent pleasures that constitute 
a merry Christmas. I did not return till 
I had been present at drawing king and 
queen, and eaten a slice of the Twelfth- 
cake, made by the fair hands of my good 
friend's consort. After tea yesterday, a 
noble cake was produced, and two bowls, 
containing the fortunate chances for the 
different sexes. Our host filled up the 
tickets ; the whole company, except the 
king and queen, were to be ministers of 
state, maids of honour, or ladies of the 
bed-chamber. Our kind host and hostess, 
whether by design or accident, became 
king and queen. According to Twelfth- 
day law, each party is to support their 
character till midnight." The mainte- 

nance of character is essential to the 
drawing. Within the personal observa- 
tion of the writer of these sheets, character 
has never been preserved. It must be 
admitted, however, that the Twelfth-night 
characters sold by the pastrycooks, are 
either commonplace or gross — when gen- 
teel they are inane ; when humorous, 
they are vulgar. 

Young folks anticipate Twelfth-night 
as a full source of innocent glee to their 
light little hearts. Where, and what is 
he who would negative hopes of happi- 
ness for a few short hours in the day- 
spring of life? A gentle spirit in the 
London Magazine beautifully sketches a 
scene of juvenile enjoyment this evening: 
" I love 1o see an acre of cake spread out 
— the sweet frost covering the rich earth 
below — studded all over with glittering 
flowers, like ice-plants, o^Tid red and green 
knots of, and hollow yellow 



ciusttd crowns, and kings and queens, 
and iheir paraphernalia. I deliglit to see 
score of happy children sitting huddled 
all round the dainty fare, eyeing the cake 
and each other, with faces sunny enough 
to thaw the white snow. I like to see 
the gazing silence which is kept so reli- 
giously while the large knife goes its 
round, and the glistening eyes which 
feed beforehand on the huge slices, dark 
with citron and plums, and heavy as 
gold. And then, when the " Characters " 
are drawn, is it nothing to watch the 
peeping delight which escapes from their 
little eyes ? One is proud, as king ; ano- 
ther stately, as queen ; then there are two 
whispering grotesque secrets which they 
cannot contain (those are sir Gregory 
Goose and sir Tunbelly Clumsy.) The 
boys laugh out at their own misfortunes ; 
but the littJe girls (almost ashamed of 
their prizes) nt blushing and silent. It 
is not until the lady of the house goes 
round, that some of the more extravagant 
fictions are revealed. And then, what a 
roar of mirth ' Ha, ha ! The ceiling 
shakes, and the air is torn. They bound 
from their seats like kids, and insist on 
seing Miss Thompson's card. Ah! what 
merry spite is proclaimed — what ostenta- 
tious pity ! The little girl is almost in 
teais ; but the large lump of allotted cake 
is placed seasonably in her hands, and 
the glass of sweet wine ' all round ' 
drowns the shrill urchin laughter, and a 
gentler delight prevails." Does not this 
make a charming picture ? 

There is some difficulty in collecting 
accounts of the manner wherein Twelfth- 
night is celebrated in the country. In 
" Time's Telescope," an useful and enter- 
taining annual volume, there is a short 
reference to the usage in Cumberland, and 
other northern parts of England. It seems 
that on Twelfth-night, which finishes their 
Christmas holidays, the rustics meet in a 
large room. They begin dancing at seven 
o'clock, and finish at twelve, when they 
sit down to lobscouse, and ponsondie ; 
the former is made of beef, potatoes, and 
onions fried together ; and in ponsondie 
we recognise the wassail or waes-hael of 
ale, boiled with sugar and n\itmeg, into 
which are put roasted apples, — the an- 
ciently admired lambs'-wool. The feast 
is paid for by subscription : two women 
are chosen, who with two wooden bowls 
placed one within the other, so as to 
leave an opening and a space between 

them, go round to the female parr of tl e 
society in succession, and what one puts 
into the uppermost bowl the attendant 
coUectress slijjs into the bowl beneath it. 
All ire expected to contriliute something, 
but not more than a shilling, and they 
are best Coteemed who give most. The 
men choose two from themselves, and 
follow the same custom, except that as 
the gentlemeii are not supposed to be 
altogether so fair in their dealings as the 
ladies, one of the collectors is furnished 
with pen, ink, and paper, to set down 
the subscriptions as soon as received. 

If a satirical prophecy in " \'ox Gra- 
culi," 4to. 1623, may be relied on as 
authority, it bears testimony to the popu- 
larity of Twelfth-night at that period. On 
the 6th of January the author declares, 
tK-it " this day, about the houres of 5, 6, 
7, 8, 9, and 10, yea, in some places till 
midnight well nigh, will be such a mas- 
sacre of spice-bread, that, ere the next day 
at noon, a two-penny browne loafe wili 
set twenty poore folkes teeth on edge. 
Which hungry humour will hold so vio- 
lent, that a number of good fellowes will 
not refuse to give a statute-marchant of 
all the lands and goods they enjoy, for 
half-a-crown's worth of two-penny pas- 
ties.'' He further affirms, that there will 
be " on this night much masking in the 
Strand, Cheapside, Ilolbourne, or Fleet- 

" The twelve days of Christmas," as the 
extent of its holidays, were proverbial ; 
but among labourers, in some parts, the 
Christmas festivities did not end till Can- 
dlemas. Old Tusser, in his "Five Hun- 
dred Points of good Husbandry," would 
have the merriments end in six days ; he 
begins January with this advice to the 
countiyman : 

When Christmas is ended, 

bid feasting adue, 
Goe ^lay the good husband, 

thy stock to renue : 
Be mindful of rearing, 

in hope of a gaine. 
Dame Profit shall give thee 

reward for thy paine. 
This was the recommendation of prudence 
tempered by kindness ; a desire for dili- 
gence in the husbandman, with an allow- 
ance of reasonable pastime to sweeten 
his labour. 

From Naogeorgus, in " The Popish 
Kingdome," a poem before quoted, and 
which will be frequently referred to for 
its lore regarding our ancjpnt customs, it 



13 to be oatlieredjthat the king of Twelfth- 
nigiit, after the manner of royalty, ap- 
pointed his officers. He himself attained 
his dignity thus : 

Then also every householder, 

to his abilitie, 
Doth make a niightie cake, that may 

suffice his companie : 
Herein a pennie doth he p\i>, 

before it come to fire, 
This he divides according as 

his householde doth require, 
And every peece distributeth, 

as round about they stand, 
Which in their names unto the poore 

is given out of hand . 
But who so chaunceth on the peece 

wherein the money lies, 
Is counted king amongst them all, 

and is with showtes and cries 
Exalted to the heavens up. 

Mr. Fosbroke notices, that " the cake 
was full of plums, with a bean in it for 
the king, and a pea for the queen, so as 
to determine them by the slices. Some- 
times a penny was put in the cake, and 
the person who obtained it, becoming 
king, crossed all tlie beams and rafters 
of the house against devils. A chafing- 
dish with burning frankincense was also 
lit, and the odour snuffed up by the whole 
family, to keep off disease for the year. 
After this, the master and mistress went 
round the house with the pan, a taper, 
and a loaf, against witchcraft." 

So far Mr Fosbroke abridges Naogeor- 
gus's account, which goes on to say, that 

— in these dayes beside, 
They judge what weatl>er all the yeare 

shall happen and betide* 
Ascribing to each day a month, 

and at this present time. 
The youth in every place doe flocke, 

and all apparel d fine, 
With pypars through the streetes they runne, 

and singe at every dore. 

« • • » « 

There cities are, where boyes and gyrles, 

together stilt do runne, 
About the streete with like, as scone 

as night beglnnes to come, 
And bring abrode their wassel bowles, 

who well rewarded bee. 
With cakes and cheese, and great good cheare, 
and money plenteousiee. 
Queen Elizabeth's Progresses by Mr. 
Nichols, contain an entertainment to hei 
at Su^ley, wherein were Melibseus, the 
King of the Bean, and Nisa, the queen of 
i Jie Pea. 
I " Mel Cut thp cake : who hath the bccue. 

shall be King ; and where the peaze is, 
she shall be Queene. 

" Nis. I have the peaze, and must be 

" Mel. I have the beaiie, and King ; I 
must commande." 

Pinkerton's "Ancient Scotish Poems," 
contain a letter from sir Thomas Ran- 
dolph, queen Elizabeth's chamberlain of 
the Exchequer, to Dudley lord Eeicester. 
dated from Edinburgh on the 15th Janu- 
ary, 1563, wherein he mentions, that Lady 
Flemyng was " Queen of the Beene" on 
Twelfth-day in that year : and in Ben Jon- 
son's Masque of Christmas, Baby-cake, 
one of the characters, is attended by " an 
Usher, bearing a great cake with a bean, 
and a pease." Hernck, the poet of out 
festivals, has several allusions to the cele- 
bration of this day by our ancestors : the 
poem here subjoined, recognises its cus- 
toms with strict adherence to truth, and in 
pleasant strains of joyousness. 

TwELFi-NiGiiT, OR King and Qukene. 

Now, now the mirth comes 

With the cake full of plums. 
Where beane's the king of the sport h 

Beside, we must kuow, 

The pea also 
]\Iust revell, as queene in the court here. 

Begin then to chuse. 

This night as ye use. 
Who shall for the present delight here, 

Be a king by the lot. 

And who shall not 
Be Twelfe-day queene for the night here. 

Which knowne, let us make 

Joy-sops with the cake ; 
And let not a man then be seen here. 

Who unurg'd will not drinke. 

To the base from the brink, 
A health to the king and the queene lieie. 

Next crowne the bowle ful. 

With gentle lambs-wooll ; 
A dde sugar, nutmeg, and ginger. 

With store of ale, too ; 

And thus ye must doe 
To make the wi-assaile a swinger. 

Give them to the king 

And queene wassailing ; 
And though with ale ye le whet here ; 

Yet part ye from hence, 

As free from offence, 
As when ye innocent met here. 

A citation by Brand represents the ancient 
Twelfth-night-cake to have been compos- 
ed of flour, honey, ginger, and pepper 
Tlie maker thrust in, at random, a smaL 
coin as she was kneading it. When baked, 
it was divided into as many parts as there 



were per:>or,s in the family, and each had 
his share Portions oi" it were also as- 
signed to Christ, the Virgin, and the 
three Magi, and were given in alms. 

On Twelfth-day the people of Ger- 
many and the students of its academies 
chose a king with great ceremony and 
sumptuous feastings 

In France, the Twelfth-cake is plain, 
with a bean ; the drawer of the slice con- 
taining the bean is king or queen. All 
drink to her or his majesty, who reigns, 
and receives homage from all, during 
the evening. There is no other drawing, 
and consequently the sovereign is the 
only distinguished character. In Nor- 
mandy they place a child under the 
table, which is so covered with a cloth 
that he cannot see ; and when the cake 
is divided, one of the company taking up 
llie hrst piece, cries out, " Fabe Domini 
pour qui ?'' The child answers, " Pour 
le bon Dieu :" and in this manner the 
pieces are allotted to the company. If 
tlie bean be found in the piece for the 
" bon Dieu," the king is chosen by draw- 
ing long or short straws. Whoever gets 
the bean chooses the king or queen, 
according as it happens to be a man or 
woman. According to Brand, under the 
old order of things, the Epiphany was 
kept at the French court by one of the 
courtiers being chosen king, and the 
other nobles attended an entertainment 
on the occasion; but, in 1792, during the 
revolution. La Fete de Rois was abo- 
lished; Twelfth-day was ordered to be 
called La Fete de Saiis-Culottes ; the old 
feast was declared anti-civic; and any 
priest keeping it was deemed a royalist. 
The Literary Pocket Book affirms, that at 
La Fete de Rois the French monarch 
and his nobles waited on the Twelfth- 
night king, and that the custom was not 
revived on the return of the Bourbons, 
but that instead of it the royal family 
washed the feet of some people and gave 
them alm.s. 

There is a difference of opinion as to 
>he origin of Twelfth-day. Brand says, 
" that though its customs vary in different 
countries, yet they concur in the same 
end, that is, to do honour to the Eastern 
Magi." He afterwards observes, " that 
the practice of choosing ' king,' on 
Twelfth-day, is similar to a custom that 
exi ted among the ancient Greeks and 
Ki mans, who, on the festival days of 
Sn-turn, about this season of the year, 

drew lots for kmgdoni' and 'ike Lino^ 
exercised their temporary authority." In. 
deed, it appears, that the ques'tion is 
almost at rest. Mr. Fosbroke affirms that 
" the king of Saturnalia was elected by 
beans, and that from thence came oui 
king and queen on this day." The coinci 
dence of the election by beans having, 
been common to both customs, leaves" 
scarcely the possibility of doubt that 
ours IS a continuation of the heathen 
practice under another name. Yet " some 
of the observances on this day are the 
remains of Druid ical, and other supersti- 
tious ceremonies." On these points, if 
Mr. Fosbroke's Dictionary of Antiquities 
be consulted by the curious inquirer, he 
will there find the authorities, and be m 
other respects gratified. 

The Epiphany is called Twelfth-day, 
because it falls on the twelfth day aflei 
Christmas-day. Epiphany signifies ma- 
nifestation, and is applied to this day 
because it is the day whereon Christ was 
manifested to the Gentiles. Bourne in 
his Vulgar Antiquities, which is the sub- 
structure of Brand's Popular Antiquities, 
remarks that this is the greatest of the 
twelve holidays, and is therefore more 
jovially observed, by the visiting of friends 
and Christmas gambols, than any other. 

Finally, on observances of this festival 
not connected with the Twelfth-night 
kisig and queen. It is a custom in 
many parishes in Gloucestershire on this 
day to light up twelve small fires and 
one large one; this is mentioned by 
Brand : and Mr. Fosbroke relates, that in 
some countries twelve fires of straw are 
m.-ide in the fields " to burn the old 
witch," and that the people sing, drink, 
and dance around it, and practise other 
ceremonies in continuance. He takes 
" the old witch " to be the Druidical God 
of Death. It is stated by sir Henry Piers, 
in genl. Vallancey's " Collectanea," that, 
at Westmeath, " on Twelve-eve in Christ- 
mas, they use to set up as high as they 
can a sieve of oats, and in it a dozen of 
candles set round, and in the centre one 
larger, all lighted ; this in memory of our 
saviour and his apostles, lights of the 
world." Sir Henry's inference may reason- 
ably be doubted ; the custom is probably 
of higher antiquity than he seems to have 

A very singular merriment in the Isle 
of Man is mentioned by Waldron, in 1 'g 
history of that place. lie says, tliat 
" during tiie whole twelve days of Chrbu 



mas, there is not a bp-rn unoccupied, and 
that every parish hires tiddlers at the 
public charge. On Twelfth-day, the 
tiddler lays his head in some one of the 
girls' laps, and a third peison asks, who 
such a maid, or such a maid shall mairy, 
naming the girls then present one after 
another; to which he answers according 
to his OAvn \^him, or agreeable to the 
intimacies he has taken notice of dining 
this time of merriment. But whatever 
he says is as absolutely depended on as 
an oracle ; and if he happens to couple 
two people who have an aversion to each 
other, tears and vexation succeed the 
mirth. This they call cutting off the 
fiddler's head ; for, after this, he is dead 
for the whole year." 

It appears from the Gentleman's Ma- 
gazine, that on Twelfth-day 1731, the 
king and the prince at the chapel royal, 
St. James's, made their offerings at the 
altar, of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, 
according to custom, and that at night 
their majesties, &c. played at hazard for 
the benefit of the groom-porter. These 
offerings which clearly originate from 
the Rom-an church, and are not analogous 
to any ceremony of the church of Eng- 
land, continue to be annually made; with 
this difference, however, that the king is 
represented by proxy in the person of 
some distinguished officer of the house- 
hold. In other respects the proceedings 
are conducted with the usual state. 


Midwinter is over. According to as- 
tronomical reckoning, we have just passed 
that point in the earth's orbit, where the 
north pole is turned most from the sun. 
This position is represented in the dia- 
gram above, by the direction of the 
terminator, or boundary line of light and 
darkness, which is seen to divide the 
globe into two equal parts; the north 
pole, which is the upper pole in the 
figure, and all parts within 32f degrees, 
being enveloped in constant darkness. 
We now trace the sun among the stars 
of the constellation Capricorn or sea-goat, 
and it is winter in the whole northern 

hemisphere. At the beginning of Janu- 
ary the earth is at its leu-it distance from 
the sun, which is proved by measuring 
the apparent magnitude of that luminary 
by means of an insirument called a 
micrometer, his disc being now about 
32 minutes of a degree; whereas 
at the opposite season, or at the begin- 
ning of July, near o\ir Midsummer, his 
apparent diameter is only about 31 
minutes. The coldness of winter there- 
fore does not depend on the distance 
of the earth from the sun, but on the 
very oblique or slanting direction of his 
rays ; less heat falling on any given part 
of the earth, than when the rays fall more 
direct. From the slanting direction of 
his rays they pass through a more dense 
region of the atmosphere, and are some- 
what intercepted ; while another cause 
of the cold is the shortness of our days 
and the length of our nights ; the sun 
continuing only about seven hours and a 
half above the horizon, while he is absent 
for about sixteen hours and a half. 

This position of the earth relatively to 
the sun is exemplified in the Popular 
Lectures on Astronomy, now delivering 
at the Assembly-room, Paul's Head, 
Cateaton-street, by Mr. John Wallis, on 
Tuesday and Thursday/ evenings. His 
explanations of this noble science are 
familiarly and beautifully illustrated, by 
an original and splendid apparatus de- 
vised and constructed by his own hands. 
It consists of extensive mechanism and 
numerous brilliant transparencies. Mr. 
Wallis's lectures on Tuesday and Thurs- 
day next, the 18th and 20th of January, 
1825, are under the patronage of the 
Lord Mayor. Here is a sure mode of 
acquiring astronomical knowledge, ac- 
companied by the delightful gratification 
of witnessing a display of the heavens 
more bewitching than the mind can con- 
ceive. Ladies, and young persons espe- 
cially, have a delightful opportunity ot 
being agreeably entertained by the novelty 
and beauty of the exhibition and the 
eloquent descriptions of the enlightened 

The holly with its red berries, and 
the " fond ivy," still stick about oui 
houses to maintain the recollection of the 
seasonable festivities. Let us hope that we 
may congratulate each other on having, 
while we kept them,keptouiselves within 
compass. Merriment without discretion 
is an abuse for which nature is sure to 



punish us. Slie mny suffer our violence 
for a wliile in silence ; but she is certain to 
resume her rights at the expense of our 
health, and put us to heavy charges to 
maintain existence. 

Samiarp 7. 

St. Lncian . St. Cedd. St. Keiitigerna. 
St. j^ldric. St. Thillo. St. Canut. 
St. Luciun. 
This saint is in the calendar of the 
church of England on the following day, 
8th of January. He was a learned 
Syrian. According to Butler, he cor- 
rected the Hebrew version of the Scrip- 
tures for the inhabitants of Palestine, 
during some years was separated from 
the Romish church, afterwards con- 
formed to it, and died after nine years 
imprisonment, either by famine or the 
sword, on this day, in the year 312. It 
further appears from Butler, that the 
Arians affirmed of St. Lucian, that to him 
Arius was indebted for his distinguish- 
ing doctrine, which Butler however 


ST. distaff's day, or rock-day. 
The day after Twelfth-day was so 
called because it was celebrated in ho- 
nour of the ?'0f^, which is a distaff \\c\di 
in the hand, from whence wool is spun 
by twirling a ball below. It seems that 
the burning of the flax and tow belonging 
to the women, was the men's diversion in 
the evening of the first day of labour 
after the twelve days of Christmas, and 
that the women repaid the interruption to 
their industry by sluicing the mischief- 
makers. Herrick tells us of the custom 
in his Hesperides : — 

5^ Distaff's dat/, or the morrow after 

Partlywork, an<l partly play, 
Ye must on S. Distaff's day : 
From the plough soone free your teame, 
Then come home and fother them. 
Jf the niaides a spinning goe, 
Burne the flax, and fire the tow ; 
« » « 

Bring in pailes of water then. 

Let the niaides bewash the men 

Give S. Distaflfe all the right, 

Then bid Christmas sport good-night. 

And next morrow, every one 

To his owne vocation. 

In elder times, when boisterous diver- 
sions were better suited to the simplicity 

of rustic life than to the comparative 
refinement of our own, this contest be- 
tween firo and water must have atl'urded 
great amiiiement. 

1772. "An authentic, candid, and cir- 
cumstanciul narrative of the astonishing 
transactions at Stockwell, in the county 
of Surry, on Monday and Tuesday, 
the 6th and 7th days o/ January, 1772, 
contaiuing a series of the most sur- 
prising and unaccountable events that 
ever happened ; ivhich continued from 
first to last upwards of twenty hours, 
and at different places. Published tcith 
the consent and approbation of the 
family, and other parties concerned, to 
authenticate which, the original Copy 
is signed by them." 

This is the title of an octavo tract pub- 
lished in " London, printed for J. Marks, 
bookseller, in St. Martin's-lane, 1772." 
It describes Mrs. Golding, an elderly 
lady, at Stockwell, in whose house the 
transactions happened, as a woman of 
unblemished honour and character ; her 
niece, Mrs. Pain, as the wife of a farmer 
at Brixton-causeway, the mother of seve- 
ral children, and well known and re- 
spected in the parish ; Maiy Martin 
as an elderly woman, servant to Mr. 
and Mrs. Pain, with whom she had lived 
two years, having previously lived four 
years with Mrs. Goldinsi, from whom 
she went into Mrs. Pain's service ; and 
Richard Fowler and Sarah, his wife, as an 
honest,industrious, and sober couple, who 
lived about opposite to Mr. Pain, at the 
Brick-pound. These were the subscrib- 
ing witnesses to many of the surprising 
transactions, which were likewise wit- 
nessed by some others. Another person 
■who bore a principal part in these scenes 
was Ann Robinson, aged about twenty 
years, who had lived servant with INIrs. 
Golding but one week and three days. 
The "astonishing transactions" in Mrs. 
Golding's house were these : 

On Twelfth-day 1772, about ten o'clock 
in the forenoon, as Mrs. Golding was in 
her parlour, she heard the china and 
glasses in the back kitchen tumble down 
and break ; her maid came to her and 
told her the stone plates were falling 
from the shelf; Mrs. Golding went into 
the kitchen and saw them broke. Pre- 
sently after, a row of plates from the 
next shelf fell down likewise, while she 
was there, and nobody near them : tlii= 



astonished her much, and while she was 
thinking about it, other things in different 
places began to tumble about, some of 
them breaking, attended with violent 
noises all over the house; a clock tum- 
bled down and ihe case broke ; a lan- 
tern that hung on the staircase v/as 
thrown down and the glass broke to 
pieces ; an earthen pan of salted beef 
broke to pieces and the beef fell about ; 
all this increased her surprise, and 
brought several persons about her, among 
whom was Mr. Rowlidge, a carpenter, 
who gave it as his opinion that the 
foundation was giving way and that the 
house was tumbling down, occasioned by 
the too great weight of an additional 
room erected above : " so ready," says 
the narrative, " are we to discover natu- 
ral causes for every thing!" 

Mrs. Golding ran into Mr. Gresham's 
house, next door to her, where she fainted, 
and in the interim, Mr. Rowlidge, and 
other persons, were removing Mrs. Gold- 
ing's effects from her house, for fear of 
the consequences prognosticated. At 
this time all was quiet ; Mrs. Golding's 
maid remaining in her house, was gone 
up staiis, and when called upon several 
times to come down, for fear of the dan- 
gerous situation she was thought to be 
in, she answered very coolly, and after 
some time came down deliberately, 
without any seeming fearful apprehen- 

Mrs. Pain was sent for from Brixton- 
causeway, and desired to come directly, 
as her aunt was supposed to be dead ; — 
this was the m.essage to her. When Mrs. 
Pain came, Mrs. Golding was come to 
Rerself, but very faint from terror. 

Among the persons who were present, 
was Mr. Gardner, a surgeon, of Clapham, 
whom Mrs. Pain desired to bleed her 
aunt, which he did ; Mrs. Pain asked 
him if the blood should be thrown away ; 
he desired it might not, as he would 
examine it when cold. These minute 
particulars would not be taken notice of, 
but as a chain to what follows. For the 
next circumstance is of a more astonish- 
ing nature than any thing that had 
preceded it ; the blood that was just 
congealed, sprung out of the basin upon 
the floor, and presently after the basin 
broke to pieces ; this china basin was 
the only thing broke belonging to Mr. 
Gresham ; a bottle of rum that stood by 
it bioke at the same time. 

Among the things that were removed 

to Mr. Gresham's was a tray full cf 
china, &c. a japan bread-basket, some 
mahogany waiters, with some bottles of 
liquors, jars of pickles, &c. and a piei 
glass, which was taken down by Mr. 
Saville, (a neighbour of Mrs. Golding's;) 
he gave it to one Robert Hames, who 
laid it on the grass-plat at Mr. Gresham's ; 
but before he could put it out of his 
hands, some parts of the frame on each 
side flew off'; it raining at that time, Mrs. 
Golding desired it might be brought 
into the parlour, wher-i it was put under 
a side-board, and a dressing-glass along 
with it ; it had not been there long before 
the glasses and china which stood on the 
side-board, began to tumble about and 
fall down, and broke both the glasses to 
pieces. Mr. Saville and others being 
asked to drink a glass of wine or rum, 
both the bottles broke in pieces before 
they were uncorked. 

Mrs. Golding's surprise and fear in- 
creasing, she did not know what to do 
or where to go ; wherever she and her 
maid were, these strange, destructive cir- 
cumstances followed her, and how to 
help or free herself from them, was not 
in her power or any other person's pre- 
sent : her mind was one confused chaos, 
lost to herself and every thing about her, 
drove from her own home, and afraid 
there would be none other to receive her, 
she at last left Mr. Gresham's, and went 
to Mr. Mayling's, a gentleman at the 
next door, here she staid about three 
quarters of an hour, during which time 
nothing happened. Her maid staid at 
Mr. Gresham's, to help put up what few 
things remained unbroken of her mistress's, 
in a back apartment, when a jar of 
pickles that stood upon a table, turned 
upside down, then a jar of raspberry jam 
broke to pieces. 

Mrs. Pain, not choosing her aunt should 
stay too long at Mr. Mayling's, for fear 
of being troublesome, persuaded her to 
go to her house at Rush Common, near 
Brixton-causeway, where she would en- 
deavour to make her as happy as she 
could, hoping by this time all was over, 
as nothing had happened at that gentle- 
man's house while she was there. Tliis 
was about two o'clock in the afternoon. 

Mr. and Miss Gresham were at Mr 
Pain's house, when Mrs. Pain, Mrs 
Golding, and her maid went there. It 
being about dinner time they all dincq 
together ; in the interim Mrs. Golding's 
servant v/as sent to her house to see bow 



tnings remained. When she returned, 
she told them nothing had happened since 
they left it. Sometime after Mr. and Miss 
Gresham went home, every thing remain- 
ing quiet at Mr. Pain's : but about eight 
o'clock in the evening a fresh scene 
began ; the first thing that happened 
■was, a whole row of pewter dishes, 
except one, fell from off a shelf to the 
middle of the floor, rolled about a little 
while, then settled, and as soon as they 
were quiet, turned upside down ; they 
were then put on the dresser, and went 
through the same a second time : next fell 
a whole row of pewter plates from ofT 
the second shelf over the dresser to 
the ground, and being taken up and put 
on the dresser one in another, they were 
thrown down again. Two eggs were 
upon one of the pewter shelves, one 
of them flew off, crossed the kitchen, 
struck a cat on the head, and then broke 
to pieces. 

Next Mary Martin, Mrs. Pain's ser- 
vant, went to stir the kitchen fire, she got 
to the right hand side of it, being a large 
chimney as is usual in farm houses, a pestle 
and mortar that stood nearer the left hand 
end of the chimney shelf, jumped about 
six feet on the floor. Then went candle- 
sticks and other brasses : scarce any thing 
remaining in its place. After this the 
glasses and china were put down on the 
floor for fear of undergoing the same fate. 

A glass tumbler that was put on the 
floor jumped about two feet and then 
broke. Another that stood by it jumped 
about at the same time, but did not break 
till some hours after, when it jumped again 
and then broke. A china bowl that stood 
in the parlour jumped from the floor, to 
behind a table that stood there. This 
was most astonishing, as the distance from 
where it stood was between seven and 
eight feet, but was not broke. It was 
put back by Richard Fowler, to its place, 
where it remained some time, and then 
flew to pieces. 

The next thing that followed was a mus- 
tard-pot, that jumped out of a closet 
and was broke. A single cup that stood 
upon the table (almost the only thing re- 
maining) jumped up, flew across the 
kitchen, ringing like a bell, and then was 
dashed to pieces against the dresser. A 
tumbler with rum and water in it, that 
stood upon a waiter upon a table in the 
parlour, jumped about ten feet and was 
broke. The table then fell down, and 
along wit^i it a silver tankard belonging to 
Mrs._ Coldingt the waiter ia wliich had 

stood the tumbler, and a candlestick. A 
case bottle then flew to pieces. 

The next circumstance was, a ham, that 
hung on one side of the kitchen chimney, 
raised itself from the hook and fell down 
to the ground. Some time after, another 
ham, that hung on the other side of the 
chimney, likewise underwent the same 
fate. Then a flitch of bacon, which hung 
up in the same chimney, fell down. 

All the family were eye-witnesses to 
these circumstances as well as other per- 
sons, some of whom were so alarmed and 
shocked, that they could not bear to stay. 

At all the times of action, Mrs.Golding's 
servant was walking backwards and for- 
wards, either in the kitchen or parlour, or 
wherever some of the family happened to 
be. Nor could they get her to sit down 
five minutes together, except at one time 
for about half an hour towards the morn- 
ing, when the family were at prayers in the 
parlour ; then all was quiet ; but, in the 
midst of the greatest confusion, she was 
as much composed as at any other time, 
and with uncommon coolness of temper 
advised her mistress not to be alarmed or 
uneasy, as she said these things could not 
be helped. 

" This advice," it is observed in the nar- 
rative, surprised and startled her mistress, 
almost as much as the circumstances that 
occasioned it. " For how can we suppose," 
says the narrator, " that a girl of about 
twenty years old, (an age when female ti 
midity is too often assisted by superstition,) 
could remain in the midst of such cala 
mitous circumstances, (except they pro- 
ceeded from causes best known to herself,) 
and not be struck with the same terror as 
every other person w<is who was present. 
These reflections led Mr. Pain, and at the 
end of the transactions, likewise Mrs. 
Golding, to think that she was not altoge- 
ther so unconcerned as she appeared to be." 

About ten o'clock at night, they sen* 
over the way to Richard Fowler, to desire 
he would come and stay with them. He 
came and continued till one in the morn 
ing, when he was so terrified, that he 
could remain no longer. 

As Mrs. Golding could not be persuad- 
ed to go to bed, Mrs. Pain, at one o'clock, 
made an excuse to go up stairs to her 
youngest child, under pretence of getting 
It to sleep ; but she really acknowledged it 
was through fear, as she declared she 
could not sit up to see such strange things 
going on, as every thing one after another 
was broken, till there was not above two or 
three cups and saucers remaining out of a 

Vol. I. 




considerable quantity of china, Sec. which 
was destroyed to the amount of some 

About five o'clock on Tuesday morning, 
the 7th, Mrs. Golding went up to her 
niece, and desired her to get up, as the 
noises and destruction were so great she 
could continue in the house no longer. 
Mrs. Golding and her maid went over the 
way to Richard Prowler's: when Mrs. 
Golding's maid had seen her safe to 
Richard Fowler's, she came back to Mrs. 
Pain, to help her to dress the children in 
the barn, where she had carried them for 
fear of the house falling. At this time 
all was quiet: they then went to Fowler's, 
and then began the same scene as had 
happened at the other places. All was 
quiet here as well as elsewhere, till the 
maid returned. 

When they got to Mr. Fowler's, he be- 
gan to light a fire in his back room. 
When done, he put the candle and c?.ndle- 
stick upon a table in the fore room. This 
apartment Mrs. Golding and her maid 
had passed through. Another candle- 
stick with a tin lamp in it that stood by 
it, were both dashed together, and fell to 
the ground. At last the basket of coals 
tumbled over, and the coals rolling about 
khe room, the maid desired Richard 
Fowler not to let her mistress remain 
there, as she said, wherever she was, the 
same things would follow. In conse- 
quence of this advice, and fearing greater 
losses to himself, he desired Mrs. Gold- 
ing would quit his house ; but first beg- 
ged her to consider within herself, for her 
own and the public sake, whether or not 
she had not been guilty of some atrocious 
crime, for which Providence was deter- 
mined to pursue her on this side the 
grave. Mrs. Golding told him she would 
not stay in his house^ or any other person's, 
as her conscience was quite clear, and she 
could as well wait the will of Providence 
in her own house as in any other place 
whatever; upon which she and her maid 
went home, and Mrs. Pain went with them. 
After they had got to Mrs. Golding's, a 
pail of water, that stood on the floor, boil- 
ed like a pot ; a box of candles fell from 
a shelf in the kitchen to the floor, and they 
rolled out, but none were broken, and the 
table in the parlour fell over. 

Mr. Pain then desired Mrs. Golding to 
send her maid for his wife to come to 
them, and when she was gone all was 
quiet ; upon her return she was immedi- 
ately discharged, and no disturbances 
happened afterwards; this was between 

six and seven o'clock on Tuesday morn- 
ing. At Mrs. Golding's were broken the 
quantity of three pails full of glass, 
china, 8cc. Mrs. Pain's fiUe.d two pails. 

The accounts here related are in tho 
words of the "narrative," which bears the 
attestation of the witnesses before men- 
tioned. The affair is still remembered by 
many persons : it is usually denominated 
the " Stockwell Ghost," and deemea 
inexplicable. It must be recollected, 
however, that the mysterious move- 
ments were never made but when Ann 
Robinson, Mrs. Golding's maid-ser- 
vant, was present, and that they wholly 
ceased when she was dismissed. Though 
these two circu-mstances tend to prove that 
this girl was the cause of the disturbances, 
scarcely any one who lived at that time 
listened patiently to the presumption, or 
without attributing the whole to witchcraft 
One lady, whom the editor of the Every- 
Day Book conversed with several times on 
the subject, firmly believed in the witch- 
craft, because she had been eye-witness 
to the animation of the inanimate crock- 
ery and furniture, which she said could 
not have been effected by human means — 
it was impossible. He derived, however, 
a solution of these " impossibilities" from 

the late Mr. J. B , at his residence 

in Southampton-street, Camberwell, to- 
wards the close of the year 1817. Mr. 
B said, all London was in an up- 
roar about the " Stockwell Ghost" for a 
long time, and it would have made more 
noise than the " Cock-lane Ghost," if it 
had lasted longer ; but attention to it gra- 
dually died away, and most people be- 
lieved it was supernatural. Mr. B , 

in continuation, observed, that some years 
after it happened, he became acquainted 
with this very Ann Robinson, without 
knowing for a long time that she had been 
the servant-maid to Mrs. Golding. He 
learned it by accident, and told her what 
he had heard. She admitted it was true, 
and in due season, he says, he got all the 
story out. She had fixed long horse hairs 
to some of the crockery, and put wires 
under others ; on pulling these, the " mov- 
ables" of course fell. Mrs. Golding was 
terribly frightened, and so were all who 
saw any thing tumble. Ann Robin- 
son herself, dexterously threwr many o\ 
the things down, which the persons pre- 
sent, when they turned round and saw 
them in motion or broken, attributed to 
unseen agency. These spectators were 
all too much alarmed by their own dread 
of infernal power to examine any thing. 



They kept at an awful distance, and some- 
times would not look at the utensils, lest 
they might face fresh horrors ; of these 
tempting opportunities she availed her- 
self. Slie put the eggs in motion, and 
after one only fell down, threw the other 
at the cat. Their terrors at the time, and 
their subsequent conversations .iiagnified 
many of the circumstances beyond the 
facts. She took advantage of absences 
to loosen the hams and bacon, and attach 
them by the skins ; in short, she ef- 
fected all the mischief. She caused the 
water in the pail to appear as if it boiled, 
by slipping in a paper of chemical pow- 
ders as she passed, and afterwards it bub- 
bled. "Indeed," said Mr. B , 

" there was a love story connected with 
the case, and when I have time, I will 
write out the whole, as I got it by degrees 
from the woman herself. When she saw 
the effect of her first feats, she was tempt- 
ed to exercise the dexterity beyond her 
original purpose for mere amusement. 
She was astonished at the astonishment 
she caused, and so went on from one 
thing to another ; and being quick in her 
motions and shrewd, she puzzled all the 
simple old people, and nearly frightened 

them to death." Mr. B chuckled 

mightily over his recollections ; he was 
fond of a practical joke, and enjoyed the 
tricks of Ann Robinson with all his heart. 
By his acuteness, curiosity, and love of 
drollery, he drew from her the entire con- 
fession ; and " as the matter was all over 
years ago, and no more harm could be 
done," said Mr. B., "I never talked about 
it much, for her sake ; but of this I can 
assure you, that the only magic in the 
thing was, her dexterity and the people's 
simplicity." Mr. B. promised to put 
down the whole on paper ; but he was 
ailing and infirm, and accident prevented 
the writer from caring much for a " full, 
true, and particular account," which he 
could have had at any time, till Mr. Bray- 
field's death rendered it unattainable. 


Mr. Arthur Aikin, in his " Calendar of 
Nature," presents us with a variety of ac- 
ceptable information concerning the ope-'a- 
tions of nature throughout the year. " The 
plants at this season," he says, " are pro- 
vided by nature with a sort of winter- 
quarters, which secure them from the ef- 
fects of cold. Those called herbaceous, 
■^Jjch die down to the root every autum'- 
are now safely concealed under-ground, 
preparing their new shoots to burst forth 

when the earth is softened in spring 
Shrubs and trees, which are exposed to 
the open air, have all their soft and tender 
parts closely wrapt up in buds, which by 
their firmness resist all the power of frost ; 
the larger kinds of buds, and those which 
are almost ready to expand, are further 
guarded by a covering of resin or gum, 
such as the horse-chestnut, the sycamore, 
and the lime. Their external covering, 
however, and the closeness of their inter- 
nal texture, are of themselves by no means 
adequate to resist the intense cold of a 
winter's night : a bud detached from its 
stem, enclosed in glass, and thus protect- 
ed from all access of external air, if sus- 
pended from a tree during a sharp frost, 
will be entirely penetrated, and its parts 
deranged by the cold, while the buds on 
the same tree will not have sustained the 
slightest injury ; wa must therefore attri- 
bute to the living principle in vegetables, 
as well as animals, the power of resisting 
cold to a very considerable degree : in 
animals, we know, this power is generated 
from the decomposition of air by means 
of the lungs, and disengagement of heat ; 
how vegetables acquire this property re- 
mains for future observations to discover. 
If one of these buds be carefully opened, 
it is found to consist of young leaves roll- 
ed together, within which are even all the 
blossoms in miniature that are afterwards 
to adorn the spring." 

During the mild weather of winter, 
slugs are in constant motion preying on 
plants and green wheat. Their coverings 
of slime prevent the escape of animal 
heat, and hence they are enabled to ravage 
when their brethren of the shell, who are 
more sensible of cold, lie dormant. Earth- 
worms likewise appear about this time 
but let the man of nice order, with a lit- 
tle garden, discriminate between the de- 
stroyer, and the innocent and useful inha- 
bitant. One summer evening, the worms 
from beneath a small grass plat, lay hah 
out of their holes, or were dragging 
" their slow length" upon the surface. 
They were all carefully taken up, and pre- 
served as a breakfast for the ducks. In the 
following year, the grass-plat, which had 
flourished annually with its worms, vege- 
tated unwillingly. They were the under 
gardeners that loosened the sub-soil, 
and let the warm air through their entran- 
ces to nourish the roots of the herbage. 

" Their, calm desires that asked but little 
were unheeded, and their usefulness was 
unknown, until their absence vvas teit 




Tlie first Monday after Twelfth-day h 
called Plough Monday, and appears to 
have received that name because it was 
the first day after Christmas that hus- 
bandmen resumed the plough. In some 
parts of the country, and especially in the 
north, they draw the plough in procession 
to the doors of the villagers and towns- 
people. Long ropes are attached to it, and 
thirty or forty men, stripped to their clean 
white shirts, but protected from the wea- 
ther by waistcoats beneath, drag it along. 
Their arms and shoulders are decorated 
with gay-coloured ribbons, tied in large 
knots and bows, and their hats are smart- 
ened in the same way. They are usually 
accompanied by an old woman, or a boy 
dressed up to represent one; she is gaily be- 
dizened, and called the Bessy. Sometimes 
the sport is assisted by a humorous coun- 
tryman to represent a. fool. He is covered 
with ribbons, and attired in skins, with a 
depending tail, and carries a box to collect 
money from the spectators. They are 
attended by music, and Morris-dancers 
when they can be got ; but there is always 
a sportive dance with a few lasses in all 
their finery, and a superabundance of rib- 
bons. When this merriment is well ma- 
naged, ir. is very pleasing. The money 
collected is spent at night in conviviality. 
It must not be supposed, liowever, that 

in these times, the twelve days of Christ- 
mas are devoted to pastime, although the 
custom remains. Formerly, indeed, little 
was done in the field at this season, and 
according to " Tusser Redivivus," during 
the Christmas holidays, gentlemen feasted 
the farmers, and every farmer feasted his 
servants and taskmen. Then Plough 
Monday reminded them of their business, 
and on the morning of that day, the men 
and maids strove who should show their 
readiness to commence the labours of ihe 
year, by rising the earliest. If the plough- 
man could get his whip, his plough-staff, 
hatchet, or any field implement, by the 
fireside, before the maid could get her 
kettle on, she lost her Shrove-tide cock to 
the men. Thus did our forefathers strive 
to allure youth to their duty, and providea 
them innocent mirth as well as labour. 
On Plough Monday night the farmer gave 
them a good supper and strong ale. In 
some places, where the ploughman went 
to work on Plough Monday, if, on his 
return at night, he came with his whip to 
the kitchen-hatch, and cried " Cock in 
pot," before the maid could cry " Cock 
on the dunghill," he gained a cock foi 
Shrove Tuesday. 

Blomefield's History of Norfolk tend., 
to clear the origin of the annual proces- 
sions on Plough Monday. Anciently, a 



light called the Plous;h-l'ight, was main- 
tained by old and young persons who 
•were husbandmen, before images in some 
churches, and on Plough Monday they 
had a feast, and went about with a plough 
and dancers to get money to support the 
Plough-light. The Reformation put out 
these lights ; but the practice of going 
about with the plough begging for money 
remains, and the " money for light " in- 
creases the income of the village alehouse. 
Let the sons of toil make glad their hearts 
v/ith " Barley-wine ;" let them also re- 
member to " be merry and wise." Their 
old acquaintance, " Sir John Barleycorn," 
has had heavy complaints against him. 
There is " The ytrraigning and Indicting 
of Sir John Barleycorn, hit. printed 
for Timothy Tosspot." This whimsical 
little tract describes him as of " noble 
blood, well beloved in England, a great 
support to the crown, and a mamtainer 
of both rich and poor." It formally places 
him upon his trial, at the sign of the 
Tliree Loggerheads, before " Oliver and 
Old Nick his holy father," as judges. The 
witnesses for the prosecution were cited 
under the hands and seals of the said 
judges, sitting " at the sign of the Three 
merry Companions in Bedlam ; tliat is to 
say, Poor Robin, Merry Tom, and Jack 
Lackv/it." At the trial, the prisoner, sir 
John Barleycorn, pleaded not guilty. 

Laivyer Noisy. — May it please your 
lordship, and gentlemen of the jury, I am 
counsel for the king against the prisoner 
at the bar, who stands indicted of many 
heinous and wicked crimes, in that the 
said prisoner, with malice prepense and 
several wicked ways, has conspired and 
brought about the death of several of his 
majesty's loving subjects, to the great loss 
of several poor families, who by this 
means have been brought to ruin and 
beggary, w hich, before the wicked designs 
and contri\ances of the prisoner, lived 
in a flourishing and reputable way, but 
now are reduced to low circumstances 
and great misery, to the great loss of their 
own families and the nation in general 
We shall call our evidence ; and if we 
make the facts appear, I do not doubt but 
you will find him guilty, and your lord- 
ships will award such punishment as the 
nature of his crimes deserve. 

Fiilcan, the Blacksmith. — My lords, 
sir John has been a great enemy to me, 
and many of my friends. Many a time, 
when I have been busy at my work, not 
tl-.irking any harm to any man, V-'ving 

a fire-spark in my throat, I, going over to 
the sign of the Cup and Can for one 
pennyworth of ale, there I found sir John, 
and thinking no hurt to any man, civilly 
sat me down to spend my twopence ; 
but in the end, sir John began to pick a 
quarrel with me. Then I started up, 
thmking to go away; but sir John had 
got me by the top of the head, that I had 
no power to help myself, and so by his 
strength and power he threw me down, 
broke my head, my face, and almost all 
my bones, that I was not able to work for 
three days ; nay, more than this, he picked 
my purse, and left me never a penny, so 
that I had not wherewithal to support my 
family, and my head ached to such a de- 
gree, that I was not able to work for three 
or four days; and this set my wife a 
scolding, so that I not only lost the 
good opinion my neighbours had of me, 
but likewise raised such a storm in my 
family, that I was forced to call in the 
parson of the parish to quiet the raging 
of my wife's temper. 

JFill, the JVeaver. — I am but a poor 
man, and have a wife and a charge of 
children: yet this knowing sir John 
will never let me alone ; he is always en- 
ticing me from my woik, and will not be 
quiet till he hath got me to the alehouse; 
and then he quarrels with me, and abuses 
me most basely ; and sometimes he binds 
me hand and foot, and throws me in the 
ditch, and there stays with me all night, 
and next morning leaves me but one penny 
in my pocket. About a week ago, we had 
not been together above an hour, before 
he began to give me cross words : at our 
first meeting, he seemed to have a pleasant 
countenance, and often smiled in my face, 
and would make me sing a merry catch 
or two ; but in a little time, he grew very 
churlish, and kicked up my heels, set my 
head where my"heels should be, and put 
my shoulder out, so that I have not been 
able to use my shuttle ever since, which 
has been a great detriment to my family, 
and great misery to myself. 

Stitch, the Tailor, deposed to the same 

3/r. fVheatly. — Tlie inconveniencies I 
have received from the prisoner are with 
out number, and the trouble he occasions 
in the neighbourhood is not to be ex- 
pressed. 1 am sure I have been often- 
times very highly esteemed both with 
lords, knights, and squires, and none 
could please them so well as James 
Wheatly, the baker; but now the case is 



altered; sir John Barleycorn is the man 
that is highly esteemed in every place. 
I am now but poor James Wheatly, and 
he is sir John Barleycorn at every word ; 
and that word hath undone many an ho- 
nest man in England ; for I can prove it 
to be true, that he has caused many an 
honest man to waste and consume all that 
he hath. 

The prisoner, sir John Barleycorn, 
being called on for his defence, urged, 
that to his accusers he was a friend, until 
they abused him ; and said, if any one is 
to be blamed, it is my brother Malt. My 
brother is now in court, and if your lord- 
ships please, may be examined to all 
those facts which are now laid to my 

Court.— Can Mr. Malt. 

Malt appears. 

Court. — Mr. Malt, you have (as you 
have been in court) heard the indictment 
that is laid against your brother, sir John 
Barleycorn, who says, if any one ought 
to be accused, it should be you; but as 
sir John and you are so nearly related 
to each other, and have lived so long to- 
gether, the court is of opinion he cannot 
be acquitted, unless you can likewise 
prove yourself innocent of the crimes 
which are laid to his charge. 

Malt. — My lords, I thank you for the 
liberty you now mdulge me with, and 
think it a great happiness, since I am so 
strongly accused, that I have such learned 
judges to determine these complaints. As 
for my part, I will put the matter to the 
bench. First, I pray you consider with 
yourselves, all tradesmen would live ; and 
although Master Malt does make some- 
times a cup of good liquor, and many 
men come to taste it, yet the fault is nei- 
ther in me nor my brother John, but in 
such as those who make this complaint 
against us, as I shall make it appear to 
you all. 

In the first place, which of you all can 
say but Master Malt can make a cup of 
good liquor, with the help of a good 
brewer ; and when it is made, it will be 
sold. I pray which of you all can live 
without it ? But when such as these, who 
complain of us, find it to be good, then 
they have such a greedy mind, that they 
think they never have enough, and this 
overcharge brings on the inconveniences 
complained of, makes them quarrelsome 
with one another, and abusive to their 
/ery friends, so that we are forced to lay 
♦hem down to sleeo. From hence it ap- 

pears it is from their own greftfjy desires 
all these troubles arise, and not from 
wicked designs of our own. 

Court. — Truly, we cannot see that you 
are in the fault. Sir John Barleycorn, we 
will show you so much favour, that if you 
can bring any person of reputation to 
speak to your character, the court is dis- 
posed to acquit you. Bring in your evi- 
dence, and let us hear what they can say 
in your behalf. 

Tliomas, the Ploughman. — May I be 
allowed to speak my thoughts freely, since 
I shall offer nothing but the truth. 

Court. — Yes, thou mayest be bold to 
speak the truth, and no more, for that is 
the cause we sit here for ; therefore speak 
boldly, that we may understand thee. 

Ploughman. — Gentlemen, sir John is 
of an ancient house, and is come of a 
noble race ; there is neither lord, knight, 
nor squire, but they love his company, and 
he theirs ; as long as they don't abuse 
him, he will abuse no man, but doth a 
great deal of good. In the first place, 
few ploughmen can live without him; for 
if it were not for him, we should not pay 
our landlords their rent ; and then what 
would such men as you do for money and 
clothes ? Nay, your gay ladies would care 
but little for you, if you had not your 
rents coming in to maintain them ; and 
we could never pay, but that sir John 
Barleycorn feeds us with money; and yet 
would you seek to take away his life ! 
For shame, let your malice cease, and 
pardon his life, or else we are all undone. 

Bunch, the Brewer. — Gentlemen, I be- 
seech you, hear me. My name is Bunch, a 
brewer ; and I believe few of you can live 
without a cup of good liquor, no more than 
I can without the help of sir John Barley- 
corn. As for my own part, I maintain a 
great charge, and keep a great many men 
at work ; I pay taxes forty pounds a yeai 
to his majesty, God bless him, and all this 
is maintained by the help of sir John ; 
then how can any man for shame seek to 
take away his life. 

Mistress Hostess. — To give evidence 
in behalf of sir John Barleycorn, gives 
me pleasure, since I have an oppor- 
tunity of doing justice to so honourable a 
person. Through him the administration 
receives large supplies ; he likewise greatly 
supports the labourer, and enlivens the 
conversation. What pleasure could there 
be at a sheep-clipping without his com. 
pany, or what joy at a feast without his 
assistance? I know !iin. to te aa honest 


man, and he never abused any man, if they 
abused not him. If you put him to death, 
all England is undone, for there is not 
another in the land can do as he can do, 
and hath done ; for he can make a cripple 
go, the coward tight, and a soldier neitlier 
feel hunger nor cold. I beseech you, gen- 
tlemen, let him live, or else we are all un- 
done; the nation likewise will be distress- 
ed, the labourer impoverished, and the 
husbandman ruined. 

Court. — (rentlemen of the jury, you 
have now heard what has been offered 
against sir John Barleycorn, and the evi- 
dence that has been produced in his de- 
fence. If you are of opinion he is guilty 
of those wicked crimes laid to his charge, 
and has with malice prepense conspired 
and brought about the death of several of 
his majesty's loving subjects, you are then 
to find him guilty ; but if, on the contrary, 
you are of opinion that he had no real 
intention of wickedness, and was not the 
immediate, but only the accidental, cause 
of these evils laid to his charge, then, ac- 
cording to tlie statute law of this kingdom, 
you ought to acquit him. 

Ferdict, Not guilty. 

From this facetious little narrative may 
be learned the folly of excess, and the in- 
justice of charging a cheering beverage, 
with the evil consequences of a man tak- 
ing a cup more of it than will do him 

Snnuaii) 8. 

St. Lucian — Holiday at the Exchequer. 

St. AppolUnarls. St. Seiierinus. St. 
Pcga. St. ruhiii. St. Cudula. St. Na- 

St. Lucian. 

The St. Lucian of the Romish church 
on this day was from Rome, and preached 
in Gaul, where he suffered death about 
290, according to Butler, who affirms that 
he is the St. Lucian in the English Pro- 
testant calendar. There is reason to 
suppose, however, that the St. Lucian of 

the church of England was the saint of 
that name mentioned yesterday. 

St. Gudula 
Is the patroness of Brussels, and is said 
to have died about 712. She suffered the 
misfortune of having her candle blown 
out, and possessed the miraculous power 
of praying it a-iight again, at least, so 
says Butler; "whence," he affirms, "she 
is usually represented in pictures witii a 
lantern." He particularizes no other mi- 
racle she performed. Surius however re- 
lates, that as she was praying in a church 
without shoes, the priest compassionately 
put his gloves under her feet ; but she 
threw them away, and they miraculously 
hung in the air for the space of an hour — 
whether in compliment to the saint or the 
priest does not appear. 

1821. A newspaper of January 8, men- 
tions an extraordinary feat by Mr. Iluddy, 
the postmaster of Lismore, in ihe 97th 
year of his age. lie travelled, for a wager, 
from that town to Fermoy in a Dungarvon 
oyster-tub, drawn by a pig, a badger, two 
cats, a goose, and a hedgehog; with a 
large red nightcap on his head, a pig- 
driver's whip in one hand, and in the other 
a common cow's-horn, which he blew to 
encourage his team, and give notice of 
this new mode of posting. 

Let us turn away for a moment from 
the credulity and eccentricity of man's 
feebleness and folly, to the contemplation 
of " the firstling of the year " from the 
bosom of our common mother. The 
Snow-drop is described in the " Flora 
Domestica" " as the earliest flower of all 
our wild flowers, and will even show her 
head above the snow, as if to prove her 
rivalry in whiteness;" as if 
— Flora's breath, by some transforming power, 
Had chang'd an icicle into a flower. 

Mrs. liarbauld. 

One of its greatest charms is its "coming 
in a wintry season, when few others visit 
us : we look upon it as a friend in adver- 
sity ; sure to come when most needed." 

Like pendent flakes of vegetating snow, 
The early herald of the infant year, 

Ere yet the adventurous crocus dares to blow. 
Beneath the o.chard-boughs, thy buds appear. 

While still the cold north-east ungenial lowers, 
And scarce the hazel in the leafless copse. 

Or sallows, shov/ their downy powder'd flowers. 
The grass is spangled with thy silver drops. 

Clvarhotte Smdk. 



^anuaii) 9* 

St. Peter of Sebaste. St. Julian and 
Basilissa. St.' Marciana. St. Rrithwald. 
St. Felan. St. Adrian. St. Faneng. 

Of the seven Romish saints of this day 
scarcely an anecdote is worth mentioning 

1766. On the 9th of January died Dr. 
Thomas Birch, a valuable contributor to 
history and biography. He was born on the 
23d ofNovember, 1705, of Quaker parents. 
His father was a coflee-mill maker, and 
designed Thomas for the same trade ; but 
the son " took to reading," and being put 
to school, obtained successive usherships ; 
removing each time into a better school, 
that he might improve his studies ; and 
stealing hours from sleep to increase his 
kr»owle'dge. He succeeded in qualifying 
himself for the church of England, with- 
out going to the university ; obtained or- 
ders from bishop Hoa ley in 1731, and 
several preferments from the lord chan- 
cellor Hardwicke and earl Hardwicke ; 
became a member of the Royal Society 
before he was thirty years of age, and of 
the Antiquarian Society about the same 
time; was created a doctor of divinity, 
and made a trustee of the British Mu- 
seum ; and at his death, left his books and 
MSS. to the national library there. Enu- 
meration of his many useful labours would 
occupy several of these pages. His indus- 
try was amazing. His correspondence 
was extensive ; his communications to 
the Royal Society were various and 
numerous, and his personal application 
may be inferred from there being among 
his MSS. no less than twenty-four quarto 
volumes of Anthony Bacon's papers tran- 
scribed by his own hand. He edited Tlmr- 
loes' State Papers in 7 vols, folio; wrote 
the Lives of Illustrious Persons of Great 
Britain, and a History of the Royal So- 
ciety; published miscellaneous pieces of 
ord Bacon, before unprinted, and pro- 
duced a large number of other works. 
The first undertaking wherein he engag- 
ed, with other learned men, was the 
' General Dictionary, Historical and Cri- 
tical," — a most useful labour, containing 
the whole of Bayle'-= Dictionary newly 
translated, and several thousand additional 
lives. He was enabled to complete his 
great undertakings by being a very early 
riser, and by usually executing the Im- 
sinessof the morning before most persons 
had commenced it. 


From" Poetic Vigils," AyBEiiNARD Baston. 
The flowret's bloom is faded, 

Its glossy leaf grown sere ; 
The landscape round is siiaded 

By Winter's frown austere. 
The dew, once sparkling lightly 

On grass of freshest green, 
In heavier drops unsightly 

On matted weeds is seen. 
No songs of joy, to gladden. 

From leafy woods emerge ; 
But winds, in tones that sadden, 

Breathe Nature's mournful dirge. 
All sights and sounds appealing, 

Through merely outward sense. 
To joyful thought and feeling, 

Seem now departed hence. 
But not with such is banished 

The hliss that life can lend ; 
Nor with such thiags hath vanished 

Its truest, noblest end. 
The toys that charm, and leave us. 

Are fancy's fleeting elves ; 
All that should glad, or grieve us 

Exists within ourselves. 
Enjoyment's gentle essence 

Is virtue's godlike dower ; 
Its most triumphant presence 

Ilhunes the darkest hour. 

3anuar|) io« 

St. Agatho, Pope. 


St. JFilliam 

St. JFiUium. 
Tliis saint, who died m 1207, was 
archbishop of Bourges, always wore a 
hair shirt, never ate flesh meat, when he 
found himself dying caused his body to 
be laid on ashes in his hair shirt, worked 
miracles after his death, and had his relics 
venerated till 1562, when the Hugonots 
burnt them without their manifesting mi- 
racles at that important crisis. A bone 
of his arm is still at Chaalis, and one 
of his ribs at Paris ; so says Butler, 
who does not state that either of these 
remains worked miracles since the French 

1820. Tlie journals of January relate 
some particulars of a gentleman remark- 
able for the cultivation of an useful quality 
to an extraordinary extent. He drew from 
actual memory, in twenty-two hours, at two 
sittings, in the presence of two well-known 
gentlemen, a correct plan of the parish 
ofSf. James,Westminsler,with parts (.fth.i 



parishes of St. Mary-le-bone, St. Ann, and 
St. Martin; which plan contained every 
square, street, lane, court, alley, market, 
ciuirch, chapel, and all public huildinjis, 
with all stable and other yards, also 
every public-house in the parish, and the 
corners of all streets, with every minutiae, 
as pumps, posts, trees, iiouses that pro- 
ject and inject, bow-windows, Carlton- 
house, St. James's palace, and the interior 
of the markets, without scale or reference 
to any plan, book, or paper whatever. 
lie did the same with respect to the parish 
of St. Andrew, Holborn, in the presence of 
four gentlemen, from eight to twelve, one 
evening at a tavern ; and he also under- 
took to draw the plan of St. Giles-in-the- 
fields, St. Paul's, Covent-garden, St. 
Mary-le-strand, St. Clement's, and three- 
fourths of Mary-le-bone, or St. George's. 
The plans before alluded to were drawn in 
the presence of JohnWillock, Esq. Golden- 
square ; Mr. Robinson, of Surrey-road; 
William Montague, Esq. of Guildhall ; 
Mr. Allen, vestry clerk of St. Ann's ; 
John Dawson, Esq. of Burlington-street; 
N. Walker, Holborn ; and two other gen- 
.tlemen. He can tell the corner of any 
great and leading thoroughfare-street 
from Hyde Park-corner, or Oxford-street, 
to St. Paul's ; or from the New-road to 
Westminster abbey ; and the trade or 
profession carried on at such corner house. 
He can tell every public shop of business 
in Piccadilly, wliich consists of two hun- 
dred and forty-one houses, allowing him 
only twenty-four mistakes ; he accom- 
plislied this in the presence of four gentle- 
men, after five o'clock, and proved it be- 
fore seven in the same evening. A house 
being named in any public street, he will 
name the trade of the shop, either on the 
right or left hand of the same, and whe- 
ther the door of such house so named is 
in the centre, or on the right or left. He 
can take an inventory, from memory only, 
of a gentleman's house, from the attic to 
the groundfloor, and afterwards write it 
out. He did this at lord Nelson's, at 
Merton, and likewise at the duke of 
Kent's, in the presence of two noblemen. 
He is known by the appellation of " Me- 
mory-corner Thompson " The plan of 
his house, called Priory Frognall, Hamp- 
stead, he designed, and built it externally 
and internally, without any working- 
drawing, but carried it up by the eye 
only. Yet, though his memory is so ac- 
curate in the retention of objects sub- 
mitted to the eye. he has little power of 

recollecting what he hears. Tlie dialogue 
of a comedy heard once, or even twice, 
would, after an interval of a few days, be 
entaelv new to him. 

January il. 

St. Theodos'ms. St. Hyginua. St 
Egivin. St. Salvlus, 

St. Theodoshii 
This saint visited St. Simeon Stylites 
on his pillar and had his fortune told. 
He ate coarse pulse and wild herbs, never 
tasted bread for thirty years, founded a 
monastery for an unlimited number of 
monks, dug one grave large enough to 
hold the whole community, when he 
received strangers, and had not food 
enough, he prayed for its miraculous in- 
crease and had it multiplied accordingly, 
prophesied while he was dying, died in 
529, and had his hair shirt begged by a 
count, who won a victory with it. He 
was buried according to Butler, who 
relates these particulars, in the cave 
wherein the three kings of Cologne were 
said to have lodged on their way to 


In hard frosts holes must be broken in 
the ice that forms upon fish ponds, or the 
fish will die. It is pleasing to watch the 
finny tenants rising half torpid beneath a 
new-formed hole for the benefit of the 
air. Ice holes should be kept open 
during the frost: one hole to a pond is 

At Logan or Port Nessock in Wig- 
townshire, North Britain, a large salt- 
water pond was formed for Cod in 1800. 
It is a basin of 30 feet in depth, and 
160 feet in circumference, hewn out 
from the solid rock, and communicating 
with the sea by one of those fissures 
which are common to bold and pre 
cipitous coasts. Attached to it is a neat 
Gothic cottage for the accommodation of 
the fisherman, and the rock is surmounted 
all round by a substantial stone wall at 
least 300 feet in circumference. In 
every state of the wind or tide, wintei 
and summer, when not a single boat 
dare venture to sea. Colonel M'Dowal 
can command a supply of the finest fish, 
and study at his leisure the instincts and 
habits of the "finny nations," with at 
least all the accuracy of those sag« natu- 



ralists, who rarely trave. farther than 
Exeter 'Change. From the inner or back 
door of the lodge, a winding stair-way 
conducts to the usual halting place — a 
large flat stone projecting into the water, 
and commanding a view of every part of 
the aquatic prison. When the tide is 
out, this stone is left completely dry, and 
here a stranger perceives with surprise, a 
hundred mouths simultaneously opened 
to greet his arrival. 

Tlie moment the fisherman crosses 
his threshold, the pond is agitated 
by the action of some hundred fins, 
and otherwise thrown into a state of 
anarchy and contusion. Darting from 
this, that, and the other corner, the whole 
population move as it were to a common 
centre, elevate their snouts, lash their 
tails, and jostle one another with such 
violence, that on a first view they actually 
seem to be menacing an attack on the 
poor fisherman, in place of the creel full 
of limpets he carries. Many of the fish are 
so tame, that they will feed greedily from 
the hand, and bite your fingers into the 
bargain, if you are foolish enough to 
allow them ; while others again are so 
shy, that the fisherman discourses of their 
different tempers, as a thing quite as 
palpable as the gills they breathe, or the 
fins they move by. One gigantic cod, 
which seems to answer to the name of 
" Tom," and may well be described as the 
patriarch of the pond, forcibly arrests 
attention. This unfortunate, who passed 
his youth in the open sea, was taken 
prisoner at the age of five, and has since 
sojourned at Port Nessock, for the long 
period of twelve years, during all which 
time he has gradually increased in bulk 
and weight. He is now wholly blind 
from age or disease, and he has no 
chance whatever in the general scramble. 
The fisherman, however, is very kind to 
him, and it is affecting as well as curious, 
to see the huge animal raise himself in 
the water ; and then resting his head on 
the flat stone, allow it to be gently patted 
or stroked, gaping all the while to implore 
that food which he has no other means of 
obtaining. In this pond, cod ajipears to 
be the prevailing species ; there are 
also blochin or glassin, haddocks, floun- 
ders, and various other kinds. Salmon, 
which at spawning time visit the highest 
rivers, could not of course obey their 
instincts here, and accordingly there is 
only one specimen of this favourite 
fi&ii in the pond at present. As the 

fisherman remarked, " he is far eonpler 
than any o' the rest," and by virtue ot 
this one quality, chases, bites, and other- 
wise annoys a whole battalion of 
gigantic cod, that have only, one would 
think, to open their mouths and swallow 
him. To supply them with food is an 
important part of the fisherman's duty ; 
and with this view, he must ply the 
net, and heave the line, during two or 
three days of every week. He has also 
to renew the stock, when the pond 
appears to be getting thin, from the con 
tributions levied on it by the cook. 

A letter from Cairo, in a journal of 
January 1824, contains a whimsical exem- 
plification of Turkish manners in the pro- 
vinces, and the absurdity of attempting 
to honour distant authorities, by the dis- 
tinctions of civil society. A diploma of 
honorary member of the Society of Frank- 
fort was presented to the Pacha, at the 
divan (or council.) The Pacha, who can 
neither read nor write, thought it was a_/?r- 
man (despatch) from the Porte. He was 
much surprised and alarmed ; but the 
interpreter explained to him that it was 
written in the Nemptchee (German) lan- 
guage, contained the thanks of the ule- 
mas (scholars) of a German city named 
Frankfort, for his kindness to two Nempt- 
chee travelling in Egypt. 

But the most difficult part was yet to 
come ; it was to explain to him that he 
had been appointed a member of their 
society ; and the Turkish language having 
no word for this purely European idea, 
the interpreter, after many hesitations and 
circumlocutions, at last succeeded in ex- 
plaining, ♦' that as a mark of respect 
and gratitude, the society had made him 
one of their partners." At these words 
the eyes of the Pacha flashed with anger, 
and with a voice of thunder he roared 
that he would never again be the partner 
of any firm ; that his partnership with 
Messrs. Briggs and Co. in the Indian 
trade, cost him nearly 500,000 hard pias- 
ters ; that the association for the manufac- 
tory of sugar and rum paid him nothing 
at all ; and, in short, that he was com- 
pletely tired of his connections with Frank 
merchants, who were indebted to him 
23,000,000 of piasters, which he consi- 
dered as completely lost. In his rage, he 
even threatened to have the interpreter 
drowned in the Nile, for having presumed 
to make ofl^er of a mercantile coDDectioti, 
against his positive orders 



Tlie poor interpreter was confounded, 
and unable to utter a word in his defence. 
At this critical moment, however, Messrs. 
Fernandez, Pambonc, and others who 
have access to the Pacha, interposed; and 
it was some time before they could reduce 
his Highness to reason ; his passion had 
thrown him into an hysterical hiccup. 
When his Highness was a little recovered, 
Mr. Fernandez endeavoured to explain to 
him that there was no question about bu- 
siness : that the ulemas of Frankfort were 
possessed of no stock but books, and had 
no capital. " So much the worse," replied 
the Pacha; "then they are sahhaftehl, 
(booksellers,) who carry on their business 
without money, like the Franks at Cairo 
and Alexandria." " Oh, no, they are no 
sahhaftehl, but ulemas, kiatibs, (authors,) 
physicians, philonssonfs, &c., who are 
only engaged in science." " Well," said 
lie, " and what am I then to do in their 
society ; I, a Pacha of three horse tails V 
" Nothing at all, your Highness, like per- 
iiaps most of the members of their society, 
but by receiving you into their society, 
these gentlemen intended to show you 
their respect and gratitude." "That is a 
strange custom, indeed," cried the Pacha, 
" to show respect to a person by telling 
or writing to him in funny letters — you 

are ivorthy of being one of «*." " But 
this is the custom," added Divan Effendi 
(his Secretary.) " Your Happiness knows 
that the frie)tds (Franks) have many cus- 
toms different from ours, and often such as 
are very ridiculous. For instance, if they 
wish to salute a person, they bare theii 
heads, and scrape with their right fool 
backwards ; instead of sittmgdown com- 
fortably on a sofa to rest themselves, they 
sit on little wooden chairs, as if they were 
about to be shaved : they eat the pillao 
with spoons, and the meat with pincers ; 
but what seems most laughable is, that 
they humbly kiss the hands of their wo- 
men, who, instead of the yashmak, (veil,) 
carry straw baskets on their heads ; and that 
they mix sugar and milk with their coffee." 
This last sally set the whole assembly (his 
Highness excepted) in a roar of laughter. 
Among those who stood near the fountain 
in the middle of the hail, several exclaim- 
ed with respect to the coffee with sugar 
and milk, Kiufirler ! (Ah, ye infidels !) 

In the end the Pacha was pacified, and 
" All's well that ends well ;" but it had 
been better, it seems, if, according to the 
customs of the east, the society of Frank- 
fort had sent the Pacha the unquestionable 
civility of a present, that he could have 
applied to some use. 


On the 11th of January, 1825, a sketch 
of this church was taken from a second- 
floor window in the house No. 115, Fleet- 
street, which stands on the opposite 
side of the way to that whereon the 
oi)ening was made by the late fire ; and 
the subjoined engraving from the sketch 
is designed to perpetuate the appearance 
through that opening. Till then, it had 
been concealed from the view of passen- 
gers through Fleet-street by the houses 
destroyed, and the conflagration has been 
rightly deemed a favourable opportunity 
for endeavouring to secure a space of 
sufficient extent to render the church a 
public ornament to the city. To at least 
one person, professionally unskilled, the 
spire of St. Bride's appears more chaste and 
effective than the spire of Bow. In 1805, 
it was 234 feet high, which is thirty-two 
feet higher than the Monument, but 
having been struck by lightning in that 
year, it was lowered to its present 

St. Bride's church was built by sir 
Christopher Wren, and completed in 
1680. It has been repeatedly beautified: 

its last internal decorations were effected 
in 1 824. In it are interred Thomas 
Flatman the poet, Samuel Richardson the 
novelist, and William Bingley, a book- 
seller, remarkable for his determined 
and successful resistance to interroga- 
tories by the court of King's Bench — a 
practice which that resistance abated 
for ever: his latter years were em- 
ployed, or rather were supported, by the 
kindness of the venerable and venerated 
John Nichols, Esq. F. S. A. whose familv 
tablet of brass is also in this churcn. As 
an ecclesiastical edifice, St. Bride's is 
confessedly one of the most elegant in 
the metropolis : an unobstructed view of 
it is indispensable therefore to the ra- 
tional character. Appeals which will 
enable the committee to purchase the 
interests of individuals on the requisite 
site are now in progress, and can scarcely 
be unheeded by those whom wealth, taste, 
and liberality dispose to assist in works cf 
public improvement. The engraved sketch 
does not claim to be more than such a 
representation as may give a distant 
reader some grounds for determining 
whether a vigorous effort to save a build 



mg of that appearance ftom enclosure this month, and are entitled to a place 'n 
a second time ought not now to be made, this sheet. 
The proceedings for thu purpose ar*> iu 

The opening in Fleet Street made by the Pire of Sunday, November 14, 1824. 



This diversion, resorted to at visilings 
during the twelve days of Christmas, as 
of ancient custom, continues without 
abatement during the prolongation of 
friendly meetings at this season. Persons 
who are opposed to this recreation from 
religious scruples, do n t seem to distin- 
guish between its use and its abuse. Mr. 
Archdeacon Butler refers to the " harm- 
less mirth and innocent amusements of 
society," in his sermon on " Christian Li- 
berty," before the duke of Gloucester, and 
the university of Cambridge, on his roya. 
highness's installation as chancellor, June 
30, 1811. The archdeacon quotes, as a 
note on that point in his sermon, a re- 
markable passage from Jeremy Taylor, 
who says, " that cards, &c. are of them- 
selves lawful, I do not know any reason 
to doubt. He can never be suspected, in 
any criminal sense, to tempt the Divine 
Providence, who by contingent things re- 
creates his labour. As for the evil ap- 
pendages, they are all separable from 
these games, and they may be separated 
by these advices, &:c." On the citation, 
which is here abridged, the archdeacon 
remarks, " Such are the sentiments of one 
of the most truly pious and most pro- 
foundly learned prelates that ever adorned 
any age or country; nor do I think that 
the most rigid of our disciplinarians can 
produce the authority of a wiser or a 

better man than bishop Jeremy Taylor.'' 
Certainly not; and therefore an objector 
to this pastime will do well to read the 
reasoning of the whole passage as it stands 
at the end of the archdeacon's printed 
sermon : if he desire further, let lum pe- 
ruse Jeremy Taylor's " advices." 

Cards are not here introduced with a 
view of seducing parents to rear their 
sons as gamblers and blacklegs, or their 
daughters to 

" a life of scandal, an old age of cards ;" 
but to impress upon them the importance 
of " not morosely refusing to participate 
in " what the archdeacon refers to, as of 
the " harmless mirth and innocent amuse- 
ments of society." Persons who are 
wholly debarred from such amusements 
in their infancy, frequently abuse a plea- 
sure they have been wholly restrained 
from, by excessive indulgence in it on the 
first opportTunity. This is human nature : 
let the string be suddenly withdrawn 
from the overstrained bow, and the re- 
laxation of the bow is violent. 

Look at a juvenile card-party — not at 
that which the reader sees represented in 
the engraving, which is somewhat varied 
from a design by Stella, who grouped 
boys almost as finely as Flamingo mo- 
delled their forms — but imagine a juvenile 
party closely jeated round a large table, 
with a Pope Joan board in the middle; 



each well supplied with mother-o'-pearl 
fish and counters, in little Chinese orna- 
mented red and gold trays ; their faces and 
the candles lighting up the room ; their 
bright eyes sparkling after the cards, 
watching the turn-up, or peeping into the 
pool to see how rich it is ; their growing 
anxiety to the rounds, till the lucky card 
decides the richest stake ; then the shout 
out of " Rose has got it 1" " It's Rose's !" 
" Here, Rose, here they are — take 'em all ; 
here's a lot !" Emma, and John, and Al- 
fred, and William's hands thrust forth to 
help her to the prize ; Sarah and Fanny, 
the elders of the party, laus;hing at their 
eagerness ; the more sage Matilda check- 
ing it, and counting how many fish Rose 
lias won ; Rose, amazed at her sudden 
wealth, talks the least ; little Samuel, who 
is too young to play, hut has been allowed 
a place, with some of the "pretty fish" be- 
fore him, claps his hands and halloos, and 
throws his playthings to increase Rose's 
treasure ; and baby Ellen sits in " mo- 
ther's" lap, mute from surprise at the " up- 
roar wild," till a loud crow, and the quick 
motion of her legs, proclaim her delight at 
the general joy, which she suddenly sus- 
pends in astonishment at the many fingers 
pointed towards her, with " Look at baby ! 
look at baby !" and gets smothered with 
kisses, from which " mother" vainly en- 
deavours to protect her. And so they go 
on, till called by Matilda to a new game, 
and "mother" bids them to "go and sit 
down, and be good children, and not 
make so much noise :" whereupon they 
disperse to their chairs; two or three of 
the least help up Samuel, who is least of 
all, and " mother" desires them to "take 
care, and mind he does not fall." Matilda 
then gives him his pretty fish " to keep 
him quiet ;" begins to dress the board for 
a new game ; and once more they are 
" as merry as grigs." 

In contrast to the jocund pleasure of 
children at a round game, take the pic- 
ture of " old Sarah Battle," the whist- 
player. " A clear fire, a clean hearth, 
and the rigour of the game," was her ce- 
lebrated wish. " She was none of your 
'ukewarm gamesters, your half-and-half 
players, who have no objection to take a 
hand, if you want one to make up a rub- 
ber ; who affirm that they have no plea- 
sure in winning; that they like to win 
one game, and lose another ; that they 
can wile away an hour very agreeably at 
a card-table, but are indifferent whether 
'hey play or no ; and will desire an ad- 

versary, who has slipt a wrong card, to 
take it up and play another. Of such it 
may be said that tliey do not play at 
cards, but only play at playing at them. 
Sarah Battle was none of that breed ; she 
detested them from her heart and soul; 
and would not, save upon a striking 
emergency, willingly seat herself at the 
same table with them. She loved a tho- 
rough-paced partner, a determined enemy. 
She took and gave no concessions ; she 
hated favours ; she never made a revoke, 
nor ever passed it over in her adversary, 
without exacting the utmost forfeiture. 
She sat bolt upright, and neither showed 
you her cards, nor desired to see yours. 
Ail people have their blind side — their 
superstitions; and I have heard her de- 
clare, under the rose, that Ilcaits was her 
favourite suit. I never in my life (and I 
knew Sarah Battle many of the best years 
of it) saw her take out her snuflbox when 
it was her turn to play, or snuff a candle 
in the middle of a game, or ring for a ser- 
vant till it was fairly over. She never 
introduced, or connived at, miscellaneous 
conversation during its process : as, she 
emphatically observed, cards were cards. 
A grave simplicity was what she chiefly 
admired in her favourite game. There 
was nothing silly in it, like the nob in 
cribbage — nothing superfluou.i. To con- 
fess a truth, she was never greatly taken 
with cribbage. It was an essentially 
vulgar game, I have heard her say, — dis- 
puting with her uncle, who was very par- 
tial to it. She could never heartily bring 
her mouth to pronounce ' go,' or ' that's 
a go.' She called it an ungrammatical 
game. The pegging teased her. I once 
knew her to forfeit a rubber, because she 
would not take advantage of the turn-up 
knave, which would have given it her, 
but which she must have claimed by the 
disgraceful tenure of declaring ' two for 
his heels.' Sarah Battle was a gentle- 
woman born.'' These, omitting a few 
delicate touches, are her features by the 
hand of Elm. " No inducement," he says, 
" could ever prevail upon her to play at 
her favourite game for nothing." And 
then he adds, " With great deference to 
the old Iddy's judgment on these matters, 
I think I have experienced some moments 
in my life when playing at cards for 
nothing' has even been agreeable. When 
J am in sickness, or not in the best spirits 
I sometimes call for the cards, and play 
a trame at piquet ^br love with my cousin 
Bridget — Bridget E,lia " Cousin Bridget 



and the gentle Elia seem beings of that age 
Vv'hereai lived Pamela, whom, with " old 
>arah Battle," we may imagme enteiing 
their room, and sitting down with them to 
A square game. Yet Bridget and Elia live 
m our own times : she, full cf kindness to 
all, and of soothings to Elia especially; — he, 
no less kind and consoling to Bridget, in 
all simplicity holding converse with the 
world, and, ever and anon, giving us scenes 
mat Metzu and De Eoe would admire, 
and portraits that Denner and Hogarth 
would rise from their graves to paint. 

Samiar|) 12. 

St. Arcadius. St. Benedict Biscop, or 
Bennet. St. JElred, Tygrius. 

St. Benedict Biscop, or Bennet. 
Butler says he was in the service of Oswi, 
king of the Northumbrians ; that at twenty- 
five years old he made a pilgrimage to 
Rome, returned and carried Alcfrid, the 
son of Oswi, back to the shrines of the 
apostles there, became a monk, received 
the abbacy of Sts. Peter and Paul, Canter- 
bury, resigned it, pilgrimaged again to 
Rome, brought home books, relics, and 
religious pictures, ionnded the monastery 
of Weremouth, went to Erance for 
masons to build a church to it, obtained 
glaziers from thence to glaze it, pil- 
grimaged to Rome for more books, 
relics, and pictures, built another mo- 
nastery at Jarrow on the Tine, adorned 
his churches with pictuies, instructed 
his monks in the Gregorian chant and 
Roman ceremonies, and died on this 
day in 690. He appears to have had a 
love for literature and the arts, and, with 
a knowledge superior to the general 
attainment of the religious in that early 
age, to have rendered his knowiedge sub- 
servient to the Romish church. 


1807. Tlie 12th of January in that 
year is rendered remarkable by a fatal 
accident at Leyden, in Holland. A 
vessel loaded with gunpowder entered 
one of the largest canals in the Rapen- 
burg, a stieet inhabited chiefly by the 
most respectable families, and moored lo 
a tree in front of the house of professor 
Rau, of the university. In Holland, 
almost every street has a canal iu the 
middle, faced with a brick wall up to the 
level of the street, and with lime trees 
planted on both sides, which produce a 

beautiful effect, and form a delightful 
shade in hot weather. V'essels of ail 
kinds are frequently moored to these 
trees, but Leyden being an inland town, 
the greater part of those which happened 
to be in the Rapenburg were country 
vessels. Several yachts, belonging to 
parties of pleasure from the Hague and 
other places, were lying close to the 
newly arrived vessel, and no person was 
aware of the destructive cargo it contained, 

A student of the university, who, a.* 
about a quarter past four o'clock in the 
afternoon, was passing through a street 
from which there was a vifiw of the Ra- 
penburg, with the canal and vessels, 
related the following paiticulars to the 
editor of the Monthly Magazine : — 

'' At that moment, when every thing 
was perfectly tranquil, and most of the 
respectable families were sitting down 
to dinner in perfect security, at that 
instant, I saw the vessel torn from its 
moorings; a stream of fire burst fk'om 
it in all directions, a thick, black cloud 
enveloped all the surrounding parts and 
darkened the heavens, whilst a burst, 
louder and more dreadful than the 
loudest thunder, instantly followed, and 
vibrated through the air to a great dis- 
tance, burying houses and churches in 
one common ruin. Eor some moments 
horror and consternation deprived every 
one of his recollection, but an univer- 
sal exclamation followed, of " O God, 
what is it ?" Hundreds of people might 
be seen rushing out of their falling 
houses, and running along the streets, 
not knowing what direction to take ; 
many falling down on their knees in 
the streets, persuaded that the last day 
was come ; others supposed they had 
been struck by lightning, and but few 
seemed to conjecture the real cause. 
]n the midst of this awful uncertainty, 
the cry of " O God, what is it .'" again 
sounded mournfully through the air, but 
it seemed as if none could answer the 
dreadful question. One conjecture fol- 
lowed another, but at last, when tlie 
black thick cloud which had enveloped 
I'ne whole city had cleared away a littl^ 
ihe awful truth was revealed, and soon 
all the inhabitants of the city were seta 
rushing to the ruins to assist the sufiierers. 
There were five large schools on the 
Rapenburg, and all at the time full of 
children. The horror of the parents and 
relations of thpse youthful victims is not 
to be described or even imugiued ; and 



though many of them were saved almost 
miraculously, yet no one dared to hope 
to see his child drawn alive from under 
a heap of smoking ruins. 

" Flames soon broke out from four 
different parts of the ruins, and tlireat- 
fined destruction to the remaining part 
of Leyden. The multitude seemed as 
it were animated with one common soul 
in extricating the sufferers, and stopping 
the progress of the flames. None with- 
drew from the awful task, and the multi- 
tude increased every moment by people 
coming from the surrounding country, the 
explosion having been heard at the dis- 
tance of fifty miles. Night set in, the 
darkness of which, added to the horrors 
of falling houses, the smothered smoke, 
the raging of the flames, and the roaring 
of the winds on a tempestuous winter 
night, produced a scene neither to be 
described nor imagined ; while the heart- 
rending cries of the suflerers, or the 
lamentations of those whose friends or 
children were under the ruins, broke 
upon the ear at intervals. Many were 
so entirely overcome with fear and 
astonishment, that they stared about 
them without taking notice of any thing, 
while others seemed full of activity, but 
incapable of directing their efforts to any 
particular object." 

In the middle of the night, Louis 
Bonaparte, then king of Holland, arrived 
from the palace of Loo, having set out as 
soon as the express reached him with the 
dreadful tidings. Louis was much be- 
loved by his subjects, and his name is 
still mentioned by them with great 
respect. On this occasion his presence 
was very useful. He encouraged the 
active and comforted the sufferers, and 
did not leave the place till he had esta- 
blished good order, and promised every 
assistance in restoring both public and pri- 
vate losses. He immediately gave a large 
sum of money to the city, and granted it 
many valuable privileges, besides ex- 
emption from imposts and taxes for a 
number of years. 

Some degree of order having been 
restored, the inhabitants were divided 
into classes, not according to their rank, 
but the way in which they were em- 
ployed about the ruins. These classes 
were distinguished by bands of different 
colours tied round their arms. The 
widely extended ruins now assumed tiie 
appearance of hills and valleys, covered 
with multitudes of workmen, producing 

to the eye an evej-varying scene of dif- 
ferent occujiations. The keel of the 
vessel in which the catastrophe com- 
menced, was found buried deep in the 
earth at a considerable distance, together 
with the remains of a yacht from the 
Hague with a party of pleasure, which 
lay close to it. The anchor of the powder 
vessel was found in a field without the 
city, and a very heavy piece of lead at 
the foot of the mast was thrown into a 
street at a great distance. 

One of the most affecting incidents 
was the fate of the pupils of the diflferent 
schools on the Rapenburg. At the 
destructive moment, the wife of the 
principal of the largest of them was 
standing at the door with her child in 
her arms ; she was instantly covered with 
the falling beams and bricks, the child 
was blown to atoms, and she was thrown 
under a tree at some distance. Part of 
the floor of the school-room sunk into the 
cellar, and twelve children were killed 
instantly ; the rest, miserably wounded, 
shrieked for help, and one was heard to 
call, " Help me, help me, I will give m.y 
watch M my deliverer." Fathers and 
mothers rushed from all parts of the city 
to seek their children, but after digging 
five hours they found their labour fruit- 
less ; and some were even obliged to 
leave the spot in dreadful suspense, to 
attend to other near relations dug out in 
other quarters. They at last succeeded, 
by incredible efforts, in bringing • up 
some of the children, but in such a state 
that many of their parents could not 
recognise them, and not a few were 
committed to the grave without its being 
known who they were. Many of these 
children, both among the dead and those 
who recovered, bled profusely, while no 
wound could be discovered in any part 
of their bodies. Others were preserved 
in a wonderful manner, and without the 
least hurt. Forty children were killed. 
In some houses large companies were 
assembled, and in one, a newly married 
couple, from a distance, had met a 
numerous party of their friends. One 
person who was writing in a small room, 
was driven through a window above tiie 
door, into the staircase, and fell to 
the bottom without receiving much hurt. 
Many were preserved by the falling of 
the beams or rafters in a particular 
direction, which protected them, and 
they remained for many hours, some for 
a wliolc day and night A remarkable 



fact of this kind happened, when the 
city of Delft was destroyed by an explo- 
sion of gunpowder in 1654; a child, a 
year old, was found two days afterwards 
suckinsi an apple, and sitting under a 

1573, and by tlie plague in 1624 and 
1635, in which year 15,000 of the inha- 
bitants were carried oft' within six months 
In 1415 a convent was burnt, and most oi 
the nuns perished in the flames. An ex- 

beam, with just space left for its body, plosion of gunpowder, in 1481, destroyed 
Two others at a little distance were in the council-chamber when full of people, 

their cradles quite safe. At that time 
almost the wliole of Delft was destroyed. 
Leyden is as large a city, but not so 
populous, as Rotterdam, the second city 
in Holland. Upwards of two hundred 

and killed most of the magistrates. 

The misfortunes of this city have be- 
come proverbial, and its very name has 
given rise to a pun. " Leyden' is " Lij- 
dcn ;" Leyden, the name of the city, and 

houses were overthrown on this occasion, Lijden, (to suffer,) have the same pronun- 

besides churches and public buildings ; ciation in the Dutch language. 

the Stadt, or town-house, was among the 

latter. The chirp of the crickets from the kit- 

Oiie hundred and fifty-one dead bodies chen chimney breaks the silence of still 

were taken from the ruins, besides many evenings in the winter. They come from 

that died after. Upwards of two thou- the crevices, when the house is quiet, to 

sand were wounded more or less danger- the warm hearth, and utter their shrill 

ously. It is remarkable that none of the monotonous notes, to the discomfiture of 

students of the university were either the nervous, and tlie pleasure of those 

killed or wounded, though they all lodge who have sound minds in sound bodies. 

in different parts of the city, or wherever This insect and the grasshopper are agree- 

they please. Contributions were imme- ably coupled in a pleasing sonnet. The 

diately began, and large sums raised 
The king of Holland gave 30,000 gilders, 
and the qiieen 10,000; a very large sum 
was collected in London. 

Leyden suffered dreadfully by siege in 

" summoning brass" it speaks of, our 
country readers well know, as an allusion 
to the sounds usually produced from some 
kitchen utensil of metal to assist in swarm- 
ing the bees : — 

To the Grasshcpper and the CritliiC. 
Green little vaulter in the sunny grass, 

Catching your heart up at the feel of June, 

Sole voice that's heard amidst the lazy noon, 
When ev'n the bees lag at the summoning brass ; 
And you, warm little housekeeper, who class 

With those who think the candles come too soon, 

Loving the fire, and with your tricksome tune 
Kick the glad silent moments as tliey pass ; 
Oh, sweet and tiny cousins, that belong, 

One to the fields, the other to the hearth. 
Both have your sunshine ; both, though small, are strong 

At your clear hearts ; and both were sent on earth 
To sing in thoughtful ears this natural song, — 

In doors and out, summer and winter. Mirth. L. Hunt. 

Bamiarp 13. 

Cambridge Lent Term begins. 
St. l^eronica of Milan. St. Kentigern. 
St. Hilary. 
llie festival of St. Hilary is not, at 
this time, observed by the Romish church 
until to-morrow, but it stands in old ca- 
lendars, and in Randle Holmes's Herald- 
ry, on this day, whereon it is also placed 
in the English calendar, Butler says, he 
was born at Poictiers, became bishop of 
that rily, was a commentator on Scrip- 

ture, an orator, a poet, wrote against the 
Arians, was banislied for his orthodoxy, 
but returned to Ids see, worked miiacles, 
and died on the 13th of January, 368. 
Ribadeneira says, that in a certain island., 
uninhabitable by reason of venemous 
serpents, they ffed from his holiness; that 
he put up a stake as a boundary, com- 
manding them not to pass it, and they 
obeyed ; that he raised a dead child to 
life, prayed bis daughter to death, and 
did other astonishing things ; especially 
after his decease, when two merchants 

Vol. I. 




it their own cost and by way of venture, 
offered an image at his shrine, but as one 
begrudged the cost of his share, St. 
llilary caused the image to divide from 
top to bottom, while being offered, keep- 
ing the one half, and rejecting the nig- 
gard's moiety. The Golden Legend says, 
that St. Hilary also obtained his wife's 
death by his prayers ; and that pope Leo, 
who was an Arian, said to him, " Thou 
art Hilary the cock, and not the son of a 
hen ;" whereat Hilary said, " I am no 
cock, but a bishop in France ;" then said 
the pope, " Thou art Hilary Gallus (sig- 
nifying a cock) and I am Leo, judge of 
the papal see ;" whereupon Hilary re- 
plied, " If thou be Leo thou »>•* not (a 
lion) of the tribe of juaa.*' After thi? 
railing the pope died, and Hilary was 

■S^. Veronica. 
She was a nun, with a desire to live 
always on bread and water, died in 1497, 
and was canonized, after her claim to 
sanctity was established to the satisfac- 
tion of his holiness pope Leo X. 

St. Kentigern. 
He was bishop of Glasgow, with juris- 
diction in Wales, and, according to But- 
ler, " favoured with a wonderful gift of 
miracles." Bishop Patrick, in his " De- 
votions of the Romish Church,'' says, 
" St. Kentigern had a singular way of 
kindling fire, which / could never have 
hit upon." Being in haste to light can- 
dles for vigils, and some, who bore a 
spite to him, having put out all the fire 
in the monastery, he snatched the green 
bough of an hazel, blessed it, blew upon 
it, the bough produced a great flame, and 
he lighted his candles : " whence we 
may conjecture," says Patrick, " that 
tinder-boxes are of a later invention than 
St. Kentigern's days." 


Term is derived from Terminus, the 
heathen god of boundaries, landmarks, 
and limits of time. In the early ages o( 
Christianity the whole year was one con- 
tinued term for hearing and deciding 
causes ; but after the establishment of 
the Romish church, the daily dispensa- 
tion of justice was prohibited by canoni- 
cal authority, that the festivals might be 
l ept holy. 

Advent and Christmas occasioned the 

winter vacation ; Lent and Easter the 

oring ; l^entecost the third ; and liay- 

time and harvest, the long vacation be 
tween Midsummer and Michaelmas. 

Each term is denominated from the 
festival day immediately preceding its 
commencement ; hence we have the terms 
of St. Hilary, Easter, the Holy Trinity, 
and St. Michael. 

There are in each term stated days 
called dies in banco, (days in bank,) that 
is, days of appearance in the court of 
common bench. They are usually about 
a week from each other, and have refer- 
ence to some Romish festival. All ori- 
ginal writs are returnable on these days, 
and they are therefore called the return 

The first return in every term is, pro- 
perly speaking, the first day of the 
term. For instance, the octave of St. 
Hilary, or the eighth day, inclusive, after 
the saint's feast, falls on the 20th of Ja- 
nuary, because his feast is on the 13th of 
January. On the 20th, then, the court sits 
to take essoigns, or excuses for non-ap- 
pearance to the writ ; " but," says Black- 
stone, " as our ancestors held it beneath 
the condition of a fieeman to appear or 
to do any thing at the precise time ap- 
pointed," the person summoned has three 
days of grace beyond the day named in 
the writ, and if he appear on the fourth 
day inclusive it is sufficient. Therefore 
at the beginning of each term the court 
does not sit for despatch of business till 
the fourth, or the appearance day, which 
is in Hilary term, for instance, on the 
23d of January. In Trinity term it does 
not sit till the fifth day ; because the 
fourth falls on the great Roman catholic 
festival of Corpus Christi. The first ap- 
pearance day therefore in each term is 
called the first day of the term ; and the 
court sits till the qumto die post, or ap- 
pearance day of the last return, or end of 
the term. 

In each term there is one day whereon 
the courts do not transact business ; 
namely, on Candlemas day, in Hilary 
term ; on Ascension day, in Easter term ; 
on Midsummer day, in Trinity terra ; 
and on All Saints' day, in Michaelmas 
term. These are termed Grand days in 
the inns of court ; and Gaudy days at 
the two universities ; they are observed 
as Collar days at the king's court of St. 
James's, for on these days, knights wear 
the collars of their respective orders 

An old January journal contains a re- 
markable anecdote relative to the decease 



of a M. Foscue, one of the farmers-gene- 
ra) of the province of Eanguednc He 
had amassed considerable wealth by 
means which rendered him an object of 
nniversal detestation. One day he was 
ordered by the government to raise a 
considerable sum : as an excuse for not 
complying with the demand, he pleaded 
extreme poverty ; and resolved on hiding 
his treasure in such a manner as to escape 
detection. He dug a kind of a cave in 
his wine-cellar, which he made so large 
^nd deep, that he used to go down to it 
with a ladder ; at the entrance of it was 
a door with a spring lock on it, which 
on shutting would fasten of itself. He 
was suddenly missed, and diligent search 
made after him ; ponds were drawn, and 
every suggestion adopted that could rea- 
sonably lead to his discovery, dead or 
alive. In a short time after, his house 
was sold; and the purchaser beginning to 
make some al'erations, the workmen dis- 
covered a door in the wine-cellar with a 
Key in the lock. On going down they 
found Foscue lying dead on the ground, 
with a candlestick near him, but no can- 
dle in it. On searching farther, they 
found the vast weaUh that he had amass- 
ed. It is supposed, that, when he had 
entered his cave, the door had by some 
accident shut after him ; and thus being 
out of the call of any person, he perish- 
ed for want of food, in the midst of his 


The hollow winds begin to blov ; 
Tlie clouds look black, tlie glasx is low ; 
The suot falls down, the spaniels sleep; 
J nd spiders from their cobwebs peep. 
Last night the sjdi went pale la bed ; 
The moon in halos hid her head. 
The boding shepherd heaves a sigh. 
For, see, a rainbow spans the sky. 
The walls are damp, the ditches smell, 
Closed is the pink-ey'd pimpernel 
Hark '. how the chairs and tables crack. 
Old Betty s joints are on the rack : 
Her corns with shooting pains torment her. 
And to her bed untimely send her. 
Loud quack the ducks, the sea fowl cry. 
The distant hills are looking nigh. 
How restless are the snorting swine .' 
The busy Jlies disturb the kine. 
tow o'er the grass the swallow wivgs 
The cricket too, how sharp he sings ! 
Puss on the hearth, with velvet paws. 
Sits wiping o'er her whisker' d Jaws. 
The smoke from chimneys right ascends 
Then spreading, back to earth it bends. 

The wind unsteady veers arounn, 

Or settling in the South is found. 

Through the clear stream the fishes rise, 

And nimbly catch the incautious 7?iM. 

The glow-worms num'rous, clear and bright, 

Jllunid the dewy hill last night. 

At dusk the squalid toad was seen. 

Like quadi-nped, stalk o'er the green. 

The whirling wind the dust obeys, 

And in the rapid eddy plays. 

The frog has cliang'd his yellow vest. 

And in a russet coat is drest. 

The sky is green, the air is still. 

The melloiu blackbird's voice is shrill. 

The dog, so alter'd is his taste. 

Quits mutton-bones, on grass to feast. 

15ehold the rooks, how odd their flight 

They imitate the gliding kite. 

And seem precipitate to fall. 

As if they felt the piercing ball. 

The tender colts on back do lie, 

Nor heed the traveller passing by. 

In fiery red the sun doth rise, 

'I'hen wades through clouds to mount the 

'Twill surely rain, we see't with sorrow. 
No working in the fitlds to-morrow. 


Samiai*p 14. 

Oxford Lent Term begins. 

St. Hilar]/. St.s. Felix. Sts. Isaias and 

Sabbas. St. Barbasceminus, iSfc. 

St. Felix of Nola, an exorcist, and af- 
terwards a priest, was, according to 
Butler and Ribadeneira, a great miracu- 
list. He lived under Decius, in 230 ; 
being fettered and dungeoned in a cell, 
covered with potsherds and broken glass, 
a resplendent angel, seen by the saint 
alone, because to him only was he sent, 
freed him of his chains and guided him 
to a mountain, where bishop Maximus, 
aged and frozen, lay for dead, whom 
Felix recovered by praying ; for, straight- 
way, he saw a bramble bear a bunch of 
grapes, with the juice whereof he re- 
covered the bishop, and taking him on his 
back carried him home to his diocese. 
Being pursued by pagans, he fled to 
some ruins and crept through a hole in 
the wall, which spiders closed with their 
webs before the pagans got up to it, and 
there lay for six months miraculously 
supported. According to the Legend, his 
body, for ages after his death, distilled a 
licjuor that cured diseases. 

In January, 1784, died suddenly in 
Macclesfield-slreet, Soho, aged 79, Sam 



Crisp, esq., a relation of the celebrated 
sir Nicholas Crisp. Tnere was a remark- 
able singularity in the character of this 
gentleman. He was a bachelor, had 
been formerly a broker in 'Change-alley, 
and many years since had retired from 
business, with an easy competency. His 
daily amusement, for fourteen years before, 
was going from London to Greenwich, 
and immediately returning from thence, 
in the stage ; for which he paid regularly 
£27 a year. He was a good-humoured, 
obliging, and facetious companion, al- 
ways paying a particular attention, and 
a profusion of compliments, to the la- 
dies, especially to those who were agree- 
able. He was perpetually projecting 
some little schemes for the benefit of the 
public, or, to use his own favourite 
maxim, pro bono publico ; he was the iri- 
stitutor of the Lactarium in St. George's 
Fields, and selected the Latin mottoes for 
the facetious Mrs. Henniver, who got a 
little fortune there. He projected the 
mile and half stones round London ; and 
teased the printers of newspapers into 
the plan of letter-boxes. He was re- 
markably humane and benevolent, and, 
without the least ostentation, performed 
many generous and charitable actions, 
which would have dignified a more a.n- 
ple fortune. 


A suppliant to your window comes, 

Who trusts your faith, and fears no guile : 

He claims admittance for your crumbs, 
And reads his passport in your smile. 

For cold and cheerless is the day. 
And he has sought the hedges round ; 

No berry hangs upon the spray, 

Nor worm, nor ant-egg, can be found. 

Secure his suit will be preferred. 
No fears his slender i'eet deter ; 

For sacred is the household bird 
Tkat wears the scarlet stomacher. 

Charlotte Smith, 

S^anuarp 15. 

St. Paul, the first Hermit. St. Maurus. 
St. Main. St. John, Calybite. St. Isi- 
dore. St. Bonitus. St . Ita, ox Mida 

St. Panl, A. D. 342. 
The life of St. Paul, the first hermit, is 
said, by Butler, to liave been written by 
St. Jerome in 305, who received an ac- 
count of it from St. Anthony and others. 
According to him, when twenty-two years 
old, St Paul fled from the persecution of 

Decius to a cavern, near which grew a 
palm-tree, that supplied him with leaves 
for clothing, and fruit for food, till he was 
forty-three yeais of age ; after which he was 
daily fed by a raven till he was ninety, 
and then died. St. Anthony, in his old 
age, being tempted by vanity, imagined 
himself the first hermit, till the contrary- 
was revealed to him in a dream, wherefore, 
the next morning, he set out in search 
of St. Paul. " St. Jerome relates from 
his authors," says Butler, " that he met a 
centaur, or creature, not with the nature 
and properties, but with something of the 
niixt shape of man and horse ; and that 
this monster, or phantom of the devil, 
(St. Jerome pretends not to determine 
which it was,) upon his making the sign of 
the cross, fled away, after pointing out 
the way to the saint. Our author (St. 
Jerome) adds, that St. Anthony soon after 
met a satyr, who gave him to understand 
that he was an inhabitant of those deserts, 
and one of the sort whom the deluded 
gentiles adored for gods." Ribade- 
neira describes this satyr as with writhed 
nostrils, two little horns on his forehead, 
and the feet of a goat. After two days' 
search, St. Anthony found St. Paul, and a 
raven brought a loaf, whereupon they 
took their corporal refection. The next 
morning, St. Paul told him he was going 
to die, and bid him fetch a cloak given to 
St. Anthony by St. Athanasius, and wrap 
his body in it. St. Anthony then knew, 
that St. Paul must have been informed of 
the cloak by revelation, and went forth 
from the desert to fetch it ; but before his 
return, St. Paul had died, and St. Anthony 
found two lions digging his grave with 
their claws, wherein he buried St. Paul, 
first wrapping him in St. Athanasius's 
cloak, and preserving, as a great treasure, 
St. Paul's garment, made of palm-tree 
leaves, stitched together. How St.Jerome, 
in his conclusion of St. Paul's life, praises 
this garment, may be seen in Ribadeneira. 


A writer, who signs himself " Crito" in 
the " Truth Teller," No. 15, introduces us 
to an honest enthusiast, discoursing to his 
hearers on the s7ioic-drop of the season, 
and other otferings from Flora, to the roll- 
ing year. " Picture to your imagination, a 
poor, * dirty' mendicant, of the order of St. 
Francis, who had long prayed and fasted 
in his sanctuary, and long laboured in his 
garden, issuing out on the morning of his 
first pilgrimage, without money and with- 



out pi o visions, clad in ids mantle and 
hood, ' like a sad votarist in palmer's 
weeds ;' and thus, and in these words, 
taking leave of the poor flock who lived 
found his gothic habitation. — ' Fellow- 
men, I owe you nothing, and I give you 
all ; you neither paid rae tithe nor rent, 
yet I have bestowed on you food and 
clothing in poverty, medicine in sickness, 
and spiritual counsel in adversity. That 
I might do all these things, I have de- 
voted my life in the seclusion of those 
venerable walls. There I have consulted 
the sacred books of our church for your 
spiritual instruction and the good of your 
souls ; to clothe you, I have sold the em- 
broidered garment, and have put on the 
habit of mendicity. In the intercalary 
moments of my canonical hours of prayer, 
r have collected together the treasures of 
Flora, and gathered from her plants the 
useful arts of physic, by which you have 
been benefited. Ever mindful of the use- 
ful object of the labour to which I had 
condemned myself, I have brought toge- 
ther into the garden of this priory, the 
lily of the valley and the gentian of 
the mountain, the nymphaea of the lake, 
and the cliver of the arid bank ; in 
short, I have collected the pilewort, the 
t'lroatwort, the liverwort, and every other 
vegetable specific which the kind hand of 
;jature has spread over the globe, and 
aMcIi I have designated by their qualities. 

and have con'erted to your use and be- 
nefit. Mindfui also of the pious festivals 
which our church prescribes, I have 
sought to mal e these charming objects of 
floral nature, the timepieces of my 
religious ca'endar, and the mementos of 
the hastening period of my mortality. 
Tlius I can light the taper to our Virgin 
■Mother on theblowingof the white snow- 
drop, which opens its floweret at the time 
of Candlemas ; the lady's smock and the 
dafl'odil remind me of the Annunciation ; 
the blue harebell, of the festival of St. 
George ; the ranunculus, of the Invention 
of the Cross ; the scarlet lychnis, of St. 
John the Baptist's day; the white lily, 
of the Visitation of our Lady ; and the 
virgin's bower, of her Assumption ; ind 
Michaelmas, Martinmas, Holy Rood and 
Christmas, have all their appropriate mo- 
nitors. I learn the time of day from the 
shutting of the blossoms of the star of 
Jerusalem and the dandelion, and the 
hour of the night by the stars."' 

From kind feelings to the benevolence 
of the Franciscan mendicant's address, 
which we may suppose ourselves to have 
just heard, we illustrate something of his 
purpose, by annexing the rose, the tulip, 
and the passion-flower, after an engrav- 
ing by a catholic artist, who has impressed 
them with devotional monograms, and 
symbols of his faith. 


Margaret. — What sports do you use in the forest ? — 

Si7»on. — N'ot many ; some few, aethus : — 
To see the sun to bed, and to arise, 
Like some hot amourist with glowing eyes, 
Bursting the lazy bands of sleep that hound him. 
With all his fiiesand travelling glories round him : 
Sometimes the moon on softn^ght clouds to rest, 
Like beauty nestling in a young man's breast, 
And all the winking stars, her handmaids, keep 
Admiring silence, while those lovers sleep, 
Sometimes outstretcht, in very idleness, 
^Naught doing, saying little, thinking less, 
To view the leaves thin dancers upon air, 
Go eddying round ; and small birds, how they faie. 



When moiher Autumn fills iheir beaks with corn, 
Filch'd fiom the careless Amalthea's horn ; 
And how the woods berries and worms provide 
Without their pains, when earth has naught beside 
To answer their small wants C. I.amb. 

ianuarp 16. 

St Marcellus, Pope. St. Macarius the 

elder, of Egypt. St. Honorutus. St. 

Fursey. St. Henry, Hermit, Sec. 
St. Marcellus, Pope. 

According to Butler, he was so strict 
in penance, that the Christians disliked 
him ; he was banished by Maxentius, " for 
his severity against a certain apostate ;" 
and died pope in 310. 

WINTER UAiNBow 111 Ireland. 

In the first of the " Letters from the 
Irish Islands," in 1823, the writer address- 
es to his friend, a description of the rain- 
bow on the hills at this season of the year, 
lie says, " I could wish (provided I could 
ensure you one fine day in the course of 
the week) that you were here, to enjoy, in 
rapid succession, and, with all its wild 
magnificence, the whirlwind, the tempest, 
[he ocean's swell, and, as Burns beautifully 
expresses it. 

Some gleams of sunshine, 'mid renewing 
To-day there have been fine bright in- 
tervals, and, while returning from a hasty 
ride, I have been greatly delighted w'th 
the appearance of a rainbow, gradually 
advancing before the lowering clouds, 
sweeping with majestic stride across the 
troubled ocean, then, as it gained the 
beach, and seemed almost within my 
grasp, vanishing amid the storm, of wliich 
it had been the lovely, but treacherous, 
forerunner. It is, I suppose, a conse- 
quence of our situation, and the close 
connection between sea and mountain,that 
the rainbows here are so frequent, and so 
peculiarly beautiful. Of an amazing 
breadth, and with colours vivid beyond 
description, I know not whether most to 
admire this aerial phenomenon, when, 
suspended in the western sky, one end of 
the bow sinks behind the island of Boffin, 
while, at the distance of several leagues, 
the other rests upon the misty hills of 
Ennis Turc ; or when, at a later hour of the 
day, it has appeared stretched across the 
ample sides of Miilbrea, penetrating far 
into the deep blue waters that flow at 
lis base. With feelings of grateful recol- 
lection too, we may hail the repeated visits 
of this heavenly messenger, occasionally, 
as often as five or six times in the course 

of the same day, in a country exposed to 
such astonishing, and, at times, almost in- 
cessant floods of rain.'' 

Behold yon bright, ethereal bow. 
With evanescent beauties glow ; 
The spacious arch streams through the sky, 
Deck'd with each tint of nature's dye, 
Refracted sunbeams, through the shower, 
A humid radiance from it pour ; 
Whilst colour into colour fades. 
With blended lights and softening shades. 

" It is a happy effect of extreme mild- 
ness and moisture of climate, that most of 
our hills (in Ireland) are covered with 
grass to a considerable height, and afford 
good pasturage both in summer and win- 
ter. The grasses most abundant are the 
dogstail, (cynosurus cristatus,) several 
species of the meadow grass, (poa,) ths 
fescue, (festuca duriuscula and pratensis,) 
?iid particularly the sweet-scented vernal 
grass, (anthoxanthum odoratum,) which 
abounds in the dry pastures, and moun- 
tain sides ; where its withered blossoms, 
which it is remarkable that the cattle dc 
not eat, give a yellowish brown tint to the 
whole pasture. Our bog lands are over- 
run with the couch, or fiorin grass, (agros- 
tis stolonifera,) several other species of 
the agrostis, and the aira. This is, in- 
deed, the country for a botanist ; and one 
so indefatigable as yourself, would not 
hesitate to venture with us across the rushy 
bog, where you would be so well rewarded 
for the labour of springing from one knot 
of rushes to another, by meeting with 
the fringed blossoms of the bog-bean, 
(menyanthes trifoliata,) the yellow aspho- 
del, (narthecium ossifragum,) the pale bog 
violet, (viola palustris,) both species of the 
pinguicula, and of the beautiful drosera, 
the English fly-trap, spreading its devy 
leaves glistening in the sun. I could also 
point out to you, almost hid in the moist 
recesses of some dripping rock, the pretty 
miniature fern, (trichomanes Tunbridgen- 
sis,) ■^hich ^'^u may remember showing me 
for the first tune at Tvmbridge Wells : the 
osmunda lunaria and regalis are also to be 
found, with other ferns, mosses, and li- 
chens, which it is far beyond my botanical 
skill to distinguish. — The man of science, 
to whatever branch of natural history his 
attention is directed, will indeed find 



never-failins sources of gratification, in 
exploring paths, hitherto ahnost untrod- 
den, in our wild country. Scarcely a 
county in England is without its peculiar 
Flora, almost every hill and every valley 
have been subject to repeated, scientitic 
examination ; while the productions of 
nature, so bountifully accorded to pooi 
Ireland, are either unknown or disre- 


From the many games of forfeits that 
are played in parlours during in-door 
weather, one is presented to the peiusal 
of youthful readers liom " Winter Even- 
ing Pastimes." 

Aunty's Garden. 

" The company being all seated in a 
circle, the person who is to conduct the 
game proposes to the party to repeat, in 
turns, the speech he is about to make ; 
and it is agreed that those who commit 
any mistake, or substitute one word for 
another, shall pay a forfeit. The player 
then commences by saying, distinctly, 
' 1 am jus* come from my aunt Debo- 
rah's garden. Bless me ! what a fine 
garden is my aunt's garden ! In my 
aunt's garden there are four corners.' 
The one seated to the player's light is to 
repeat this, word for word : if his memory 
fails he pays a forfeit, and gives up his 
tuin to his next right-hand neighbour, not 
being permitted to correct his mistake. 

When this has gone all round, the con- 
ductor repeats the first speech, and adds 
the following : 
' In the first corner stands a superb alater- 

Whose shade, in the dog-days, won't let the 
sun burn u«.* 
*' This couplet having been sent round 
as before, he then adds the following : 
' In the second corner grows 
A bush which boars a yellow rose : 
\Vould I might my love (-isclose 1' 

" This passes round in like manner: 
" la the third corner Jane show'd ine much 

London pride ; 
Let your mouth to your next neighbour's 

ear be applied, 
And quick to his keeping a secret confide." 

" At this period of the game every one 
must tell his right-hand neighbour some 

In the fourth round, after repeating the 
whole of the former, he concludes thus : 
' Jn the fourth corner doth appear 

Of amaranths a crowd ; 
Each secret whisper'd in the ear 
Must now be told aloud.' 

" Those who are unacquainted with thi.s 
game occasionally feel not a little embar- 
rassed at this conclusion, as the secrets 
revealed by their neighbour may be such 
as they would not like to be published to 
the whole party. Those who are aware 
of this finesse take care to make theii 
secrets witty, comic, or complimentary." 


This is the eldest of the seasons : he 

Moves not like Spring with gradual step, nor grows 

From bud to beauty, but with all his snows 
Comes down at once in hoar antiquity. 
No rains nor loud proclaiming tempests flee 

Before him, nor unto his time belong 

The suns of summer, nor the charms of song, 
That with May's gentle smiles so well agree. 
But he, made perfect in his birthday cloud. 

Starts into sudden life with scarce a sound, 

And with a tender footstep prints the ground, 
As tho' to cheat man's ear ; yet while he stays 
He seems as 'twere to prrmpt our merriest lays. 
And bid the dance and joke be long and loud. 

Literary Pocket Book, 1620. 

St. Anthony, Patriarch of Moi.-ks. Sfs. 
Speusippus, Eleuxippus, and Melensip- 
pns. Sts. Sulpichis I. and II., Abps. 
of Bourges. St. Milgithe. St. Nen- 
nius, or Nennidhiu.'i. 

St. .Anthony, Patriarch of Monks. 
ITie memoirs of St. Anthony mak*- a 
distinguished figure in the lives of the 
saints by Alban Butler, who states the 
particulars to have been extracted from 
" The Life of St. Anthony," compiled by 
the great St Athanasius ; " a work," says 



Butler, " much commended by St. Gre- 
gory Nazianzen, St. Jerom, St. Austin," 
&c. This statement hy Butler, whose 
biographical labours are estimated by ca- 
tholics as of the highest order, and the ex- 
traordinary temptations which rendc the 
life of St. Anthony eminently remarkab e, 
require at least so much notice of him, as 
may enable the general reader to dete - 
mine upon the qualities attributed to him, 
and the reputation his name has attained 
in consequence. 

According to Butler, St. Anthony was 
born in 251, at Coma near Heraclea in 
Egypt, and in thai neighbourhood com- 
menced the life of a hermit : he was con- 
tinually assailed by the devil. His only 
food was bread with a little salt, he drank 
nothing but water, never ate before sun- 
set, sometimes only once in two or four 
days, and lay on a rush mat or on the 
bare floor. For further solitude he left 
Coma, and hid himself in an old sepul- 
chre, till, in 285, he withdrew into the de- 
serts of the mountains, from whence, i-i 
305, he descended and founded his first 
monastery. His under garment was sack- 
cloth, with a white sheepskin coat and 
girdle Butler says that he " was taught 
to apply himself to manual labour by an 
angeljWho appeared, platting mats of palm- 
tree leaves, then rising to pray, and after 
some time sitting down again to work ; 
ar 1 who at length said to him, ' Do this, 
and thou shall be saved.' The life, at- 
tributed by Butler to St. Athanasius, in- 
forms us that our saint continued in some 
degree to pray whilst he was at work ; 
that he detested the Arians ; that he would 
not speak to a heretic unless to exhort him 
to the true faith ; and that he drove all 
such from his mountain, calling them ve- 
nomous serpents. He was very anxious 
that after his decease he should not be 
embalmed, and being one hundred and 
five years old, died in 356, having be- 
queathed one of his sheepskins, with the 
coat in which he lay, to St. Athanasius." 
So far Butler. 

St. Athanasius, or rather the life of ?t, 
Anthony before alluded to, which, not- 
withstanding Butler's authorities, may be 
doubted as the product of Athanasius; 
but, however that may be, that memoir of 
St. Anthony is veiy particular in its ac- 
coimt of St. Anthony's warfare with the 
infernal powers. It says that hostilities 
commenced when the saint first deter- 
mined on hermitizing ; " in short, the de- 
vil raiii-d a great deal of dust in hi.s 

thoughts, that by bemudding and dis- 
ordering his intellects he might make 
St. Anthony let go his design." In his 
first conflict with the devil he was vic- 
torious, although satan ajtpeared to him 
in an alluring shape, ^;ext he came in 
the form of a black boy, and was atiain 
defeated. After that Anthony g(.t into a 
tomb and shut down the top, but the devil 
found him out, and, with a great company 
of other devils, so beat and bruised him, 
that in the morning he was discovered by 
the person who brought his bread, lying 
like a dead man on the ground ; where- 
upon he took him up and carried him to 
the town church, where many of his 
friends sat by him until midnight. An- 
thony then coming to himself and seeing 
all asleep, caused the person who brought 
him thither to carry him back privately, 
and again got into the tomb, shutting 
down the tomb-top as before. Upon this, 
the devils being very much exasperated, 
one night, made a noise so dreadful, 
that the walls shook. " They trans- 
formed themselves into the shapes of 
all sorts of beasts, li; ns, bears, leopards, 
bulls, serpents, asps, scorpions and wolves; 
every one of which moved and acted 
agreeably to the creatures which they re- 
presented ; the lion roaring and seeming j 
to make towards him, the bull to butt, the I 
serpent to creep, and the wolf to run at ; 
him, and so in short all the rest ; so that I 
Anthony was tortured and mangled by 
them so grievously that his bodily pain 
was greater than before." But, as it were 
laughmgly, he taunted them, and the de- 
vils gnashed their teeth. This continued 
till the roof of his cell opened, a beam of 
light shot down, the devils became speech- 
less, Anthony's pain ceased, and the roof 
closed again. At one time the devil laid 
the semblance of a large piece of plate in 
his way, but Anthony, perceiving the devii 
in the dish, chid it, and the plate disap- 
peared. At another time he saw a quan- 
tity of real gold on the ground, and to 
show the devil " that he did not value 
money, he leaped over it as a man in a 
fright over a fire." Having secluded him- 
self in an empty castle, some of his ac- I 
quaintance c mie often to see him, but in 
vain; he would not let them enter, and 
they remained whole days and nights 
listening to a tumultuous rout of devils | 
bawling and wailing within. He lived \l 
that state for twenty years, never seemg or 
being seeti by any one, till hit, friends 
broke open the door, and " the specta 



tors were in amazemeni to soe his body 
tdal had been so belaboured by devils, 
m the same shape in which it was before 
i»is retirement." By wav of a caution to 

others he related the practices of the de- 
vils, ind hovv they aj.peared. lie said 
that, " to scare us, they will represen* 
tliemselves so tall as to touch the ceiling. 

and proporlionably broad ; they often pre- 
tend to sing psalm.s and cite the scrip- 
tures, and sometimes while we are read- 
ing they echo what we read ; sometimes 
titey stamp, sometimes they laugh, and 
sometimes they hiss : but when one re- 
g-drdh uieiii not, then they weep and la- 

ment, as vanquished. Once, when iney 
came threatening- and surrounding me 
like soldiers, accoutred and horsed, and 
again when they filled the place with 
wild beasts and creeping things, 1 sung 
Psalm xix. 8., and they were presently 
•outed. Another time, v\heu they a^>- 



ppared with a light in the dark, and said, 
' We are come, Anthony, to lend thee our 
light,' I prayed, shutting my eyes, because 
1 disdained to behold their light, and 
presently their light was put out. After 
this they came and hissed and danced, 
but as I prayed, and lay along singing, 
they presently began to wail and weep as 
though they were spent. Once there 
came a devil very tall in appearance, that 
dared to say, ' What woi.ldst thou have 
me bestow upon thee ?' but I spat upon 
him and endeavoured to beat him, and, 
great as he was, he disappeared with the 
rest of the devils. Once one of them 
knocked at the door of my cell, and when 
I opened it I saw a tall figure ; and when 
I asked him, 'Who art thou?' he answered, 
'I am satan ; Why do the monks blame 
and curse me ? I hav» no longer a place 
or a city, and now the desert is filled with 
monks ; let them not curse one to no 
purpose.' 1 said to him, 'Thou art a liar,' 
&c. and he disappeared." A deal more 
than this he is related to have said by his 
biographer, who affirms that Anthony, 
" having been prevailed upon to go into 
a vessel and pray with the monks, he, and 
he only, perceived a wretched and terri- 
ble stink ; the company said there was 
some salt hsh in the vessel, but tie per- 
ceived another kind of scent, and while 
he was speaking, a young man that had 
a devil, and who had entered before them 
and hid himself, cried out, and the devil 
was rebuked by St Anthony and came 
out of him, and then they all knew that 
it was the devil that stunk." — " Wonder- 
ful as these things are, there are stranger 
things yet ; for once, as he was going to 
pray, he was in a rapture, and (which is a 
paradox) as soon as he stood up, he saw 
himself without himself, as it were in the 
air, and some bitter and terrible beings 
standing by him in the air too, but the 
angels, his guardians, withstood them." — 
"He had also anothei particular favour, 
for as he was sitting on the mount in a 
praying posture, and perhaps gravelled 
with some doubt relating to himself, in 
the night-time, one called to him, and 
said, 'Anthony, arise, go forth and look ;' 
so he went out and saw a certain terrible, 
deformed personage standing, and reach- 
ing to the clouds, and winged creatures, 
and him stretching out his hands ; and 
some of them he saw were stopped by 
him, and others were flying beyond him ; 
whereupon the tall one gnashed his teeth, 
nnd Anthony perceived that it v/as the 

enemy of souls, who seizes on those whr 
are accountable to him, but cannot reach 
those who are not persuadable by him." 
His biographer declares that the devils 
fled at his word, as fast as from a whip. 

It appears from lady Morgan, that at 
the confectioners' in Rome, on twelfth- 
day, " saints melt in the mouth, and 
the temptations of St, Anthony are easily 

Alban Butler says that there is an ex- 
tant sermon of St. Anthony's wherein he 
extols the eflicacy of the sign of the cross 
for chasing the devil, and lays down rules 
for the discernment of spirits. There is 
reason to believe that he could not read ; 
St. Austin thinks that he did not know 
the alphabet. He wore his habit to his 
dying day, neither washing the dirt off 
his body, nor so much as his feet, unless 
they were wet by chance when he waded 
through water on a journey. The Jesuit 
Ribadeneira affirms, that " all the world 
relented and bemoaned his death for 
afterwards there fell no rain from heaven 
for three years." 

The Engraving of Sr. Aktiiony co7i- 
Jlicting tvith the Devil, in the present 
sheet, is after Salvator Rosa. 

Saints' bodies appear, from the Romish 
writers, to have waited undecomposed in 
their graves till their odour of sanctity 
rendered it necessary that their remains 
should be sought out ; and their bodies 
were sure to be found, after a few centu- 
ries ofsburial, as fresh as if they had been 
interred a few weeks. Hence it is, that 
though two centuries elapsed before An- 
thony's was looked for, yet his grave was 
not only discovered, but his body was 
in the customary preservation. It was 
brought to Europe through a miracle. 
One Joceline, who had neglected a pil- 
grimage to Jerusalem, was, therefore, 
sorely wounded in battle, and carried for 
dead into a chapel dedicated to St. An- 
thony. When he began to revive, a mul- 
titude of devils appeared to drag him to 
hell and one devil cast a halter about his 
neck to strangle him, wherefore St. An- 
thony appeared ; the devils flew from him 
of course, and he commanded Joceline to 
perform his pilgrimage, and to convey his- 
body from the east ; whereupon Joceline 
obeyed, and carried it to France. When 
Patrick wrote, thesaint's beard was showu 
at Cologne, with a part ot his hand, and 
another piece of him was shown at Tour 



Bay ; two of his relics were at Antwerp ; 
a church dedicated to him at Rome was 
famous for his sackcloth, and part of iiis 
palm coat ; the otlier part of it was e\hi- 
t)ited at Vienna, and the rest of his body 
was so multiplied about, that there were 
.irab-bones enough for the remains of half a 
dozen uncanonized persons. The Romish 
church has not made samts of late years. 


On St. Anthony's day, the beasts at 
Rome are blessed, and sprinkled with 
holy water. Dr. Forster, in his ' Peren- 
-iai Calendar," remarks, that " the early 
Catholics regarded no beasts, birds, or fish, 
as hateful." He says, that " St. Anthony 
was particularly solicitous about animals, 
to which a whimsical picture by Salvator 
Rosa represunts him as preaching ;'' and 
he suggests, that " from his practices, 
perhaps, arose the custom of blessings 
passed on animals still practised at Rome; 
he regarded all God's creatures as worthy 
of protection" — except heretics, the doctor 
might have added ; unless, indeed, which 
seems to have been the case, Anthony re- 
garded them as " creatures " of the devil, 
between whom, and this saint, we have 
seen that the Rev. Alban Butler takes 
especial care we should not be ignorant 
of the miraculous conflicts just related. 

Lady Morgan says, that the annual be- 
nediction of the beasts at Rome, in a 
church there dedicated to St. Anthony, 
lasts for some days : " for not only every 
Roman from the pope to the peasant, who 
has a horse, a mule, or an ass, sends his 
cattle to be blessed at St. Anthony's shrine, 
but all the English go with their job horses 
and favourite dogs ; and for the small 
offering of a couple of paoli, get them 
sprinkled, sanctified, and placed under 
the protection of this saint. Coach after 
coach draws up, strings of mules mix with 
carts and barouches, horses kick, mules 
are restive, and dogs snarl, while the offi- 
ciating priest comes forward from his 
little chapel, dips a brush into a vase of 
holy water, sprinkles and prays over the 
beasts, pockets the fee, and retires." 

Dr. Conyers Middleton says, that when 
he was at Rome, he had his own horses 
blest for eighteen-pence, as well to satisfy 
his curiosity, as to humour his coachman, 
who was persuaded that some mischance 
would befall them in the year, if they had 
not the benefit of the benediction. 


Lady Morgan describes a picture in 
the Borghese palace at Rome, represent- 
ing St. Anthony preaching to the fishes : 
" The salmon look at the preacher with 
an edified face, and a cod, with his up- 
turned eyes, seems anxiously seeking for 
the new light. The saint's sermon is to 
be had in many of the shops at Rome. 
St. Anthony addresses the fish, ' Dearly 
beloved fish ;' and the legend adds, that 
at the conclusion of the discourse, ' the 
fish bowed to him with profound humility, 
and a gravv.' and religious countenance.' 
The samt then gave the fish his blessing, 
who scudded away to make new conver- 
sions, — the missionaries of the main. 

" The church of St. Anthony at Rome is 
painted in curious old frescos, with the 
temptations of the saint. In one picture 
he is drawn blessing the devil, disguised 
in a cowl ; probably at that time 
' When the devil was sick, 

and the devil a monk would be ;' 

" the next picture shows, that 

* When the devil was well, 
the devil a monk was he ;' 
" for St. Anthony, having laid down in his 
cofiin to meditate the more securely, a 
parcel of malicious little imps are peeping, 
with all sorts of whimsical and terrific 
faces, over its edges, and parodying Ho- 
gartii's enraged musician. One abomi- 
nable wretch blows a post-horn close to 
the saint's ear, and seems as much de- 
lighted with his own music as a boy with 
a Jew's-harp, or a solo-player with his 
first ad libitimi." 

St. Anthony's sermon to the fish is 
given in some of our angling books. If 
this saint was not the preacher to the fish, 
but St. Anthony of Padua, the latter has 
lost the credit of his miraculous exhort- 
ation, from the stupendous reputation of 
his namesake and predecessor. Not to 
risk the displeasure of him of Padua, by 
the possibility of mistake, without an at- 
tempt to propitiate him if it be a mistake, 
let it be recorded here, that St. Anthonv 
of Padua's protection of a Portuguese 
regiment, which enlisted him into its ranks 
seven hundred years after his death, pro- 
cured him the honour of being promoted 
to the rank of captain, by the king of 
Portugal, as will appear by reference to 
his military certificate set forth at laigs 
in " Ancient Mysteries described " 




.St. Anth:)ny's fire is an inflammatorj' 
disease wliich, in the eleventh century, 
raged violent^ in various parts. Accord- 
ing to the legend, the intercession of St. 
Anthony was prayed for, when it mira- 
culously ceased ; and therefore, from that 
time, the complaint has been called St. 
Anthony's fire. 

ST. Anthony's pig. 
Bishop Patrick, from the Salisbury 
missal and other Romish service-books, 
cites the supplications to St. Anthony for 
relief from this disease. Catholic writers 
affirm it to have been cured by the saint's 
relics dipped in wine, which proved a 
present remedy. " Neither," says Pa- 
trick, who quotes the Romish writers, 
" did this benefit by the intercession of 
St. Anthony accrue only to men, but to 
cattle also ; and from hence we are told 
the custom arose of picturing this saint 
with a hog at his feet, because, the same 
author (Aymerus) says, on this animal 
God wrought miracles by his servant." 
J atrick goes on to say, that in honour of 
St. Anthony's power of curing pigs, " they 
used in several places to tie a bell about 
the neck of a pig, and maintain it at the 
common charge of the paristi," from 
whence came our English proverb of 
" Tantouy pig," or t'Antony, an abridge- 
ment of the Anthony pig. 

" I remember," says Stow, " that the 
officers charged with the oversight of the 
markets in this city did divers times take 
from the market people, pigs starved, or 
otherwise unwholesome for man's sus- 
tenance ; these they did slit in the car. 
One of the yjroctors for St. Anthony's 
(Hospital) tied a bell about the neck, (of 
one of them,) and let it feed on the dung- 
hills : no man would hurt or take it 
up ; but if any gave to them bread, or 
other feeding, such they (the pigs) would 
know, watch for, and daily follow, whining 
till they had somewhat given them : where- 
upon was raised a proverb, ' Suck an one 
will follow such an one, and whine as it 
ivere (like) an Anthony pig.' " If such a 
pig grew to be fat, and came to good 
liking, (as oftentimes they did,) then the 
proctor would take hini up to the use of 
the hospital. 

St. Anthony's school m London, new 
gone to decay, was anciently celebrated 
for the proficiency of its pupils. Stow 
relates, that, in his youth he annually s;.w, 
on the eve of St Bartholomew, the scho- 

lars of the different grammar-scl;cols as- 
sembled in the churchyard of St. Bartho- 
lomew, Smithfield, and then St. Anthony's 
scholars commonly \\ ere the best, and car- 
ried the prizes ; and that when the boys ot 
St. Paul's school met with those of St. 
Anthony's, " they would call them St 
Anthony's pigs, and they again would 
call the others pigeons of Paul's ; because 
many pigeons were bred in Paul's church, 
and St. Anthony was always figured with 
a pig following him." 

The seal of St. Anthony's Hospital in 
London was about the size of a half- 
crown ; it represented the saint preaching 
to a numerous congregation, with his pig 
beneath him. Tlie Rev. Mr. Orton, rector 
of Raseby in Leicestershire, was supposed 
to have been its possessor by the late Mr.S. 
Ayscough, who adds (in the Gent. Mag.) 
that the hospitalof St. Anthony had a grant 
of all the stray pigs which were not 
owned. He presumes that, from thence, 
originated the emblem of the saint's pig. 
In this he seems to have been mistaken ; 
it clearly did not originate in England t 
Patrick's solution of it is more probable, 
and very likely to be correct. 

St. Anthony is always represented by 
the old painters with a pig by his side 
He is so accompanied in the wood-cut 
to his life in the Golden Legend. There 
are many prints of him, by early masters, 
in this way. Rubens painted a fine pic- 
ture of the Death of St. Anthony, with 
his pig, or rather a large bacon hog, lying 
under the saint's bed : there is a good" 
engraving from this picture by Clouwet. 

In the British Museum there is a MS. 
with a remarkable anecdote that would 
form an appendix to St. Anthony's day. 
The names of the parties are forgotten ; 
but the particulars, recollected from acci- 
dental perusal, are these : 

A tailor was met out of doors by a per- 
son who requested to be measured for a 
suit of clothes, to be ready on that spof 
by that day week ; and the stranger gave 
him a, piece of cloth to make them with. 
From certain circumstances, the tailor 
suspected his new customer to be the 
devil, and communicated his conjectures 
to a clergyman, who advised him to exe 
cute the order, but carefully to save everv 
piece, even the minutest shred he citf 
from the cloth, and put the whole into a 
wrapper with the clothes ; he furthe? 
promised the tailor to go with him on tho 



ajipointod day to the place where they 
ftere •Jelivered. When all was ready and 
the day arrived, they both went thither, 
txnd the person waiting justified the tai- 
tor's suspicions ; for he abused the tailor 
because he brought a divine, and imme- 
diately vanished in their presence, leav- 
ing the clothes and pioces of cloth in the 
possession of the tailor, who could not 
sell the devil's cloth to pay himself for the 
making, for fear of the consequences : 
And here ends the history 
Of this wonderful mystery ; 

from which may be drawn, by way of mo- 
ral, that a tailor ought not to take an or- 
der frjm a stranger without a reference. 

^amian) 18. 

67. Peter s Chair at Rome. St. Paul and 
T/iirti/six Companions in Egypt. St. 
Prisc'a. St. Deicolus. St. tJIfrid. 
The Feast of St. Peter's chair is kept 
by the Romish church on this day. Lady 
Morgan says that it is one of the very few 
functions as they are called (funzioni) ce- 
lebrated in the cathedral of St. Peter, at 
Rome. She briefly describes this cele- 
bration, and says something respecting 
St. Peter's chair. " The splendidly dress- 
ed troops that line the nave of the cathe- 
dral, the variety and richness of vestments 
which clothe the various church and lay 
dignitaries, abbots, priests, canons, pre- 
lates, cardinals, doctors, dragoons, sena- 
tors, and grenadiers, which march in pro- 
cession, complete, as they proceed up the 
vast spare of this wondrous temple, a 
spectacle nowhere to be equalled within 
the pale of European civilisation. In the 
midst of swords and crosiers, of halberds 
and crucifixes, surrounded by bani>ers, 
and bending under the glittering tiara of 
threefold power, appears the aged, feeble, 
and worn-out pope, borne aloft on men's 
shoulders, in a chair of crimson and gold, 
and environed by slaves, (for such they 
look,) who waft, from plumes of ostrich 
feathers mounted on ivory wands, a cool- 
ing gale, to refresh his exhausted frame, 
too fsail for the weight of such honours. 
All fall prostrate, as he passes up the 
church to a small choir and throne, tem- 
porarily erected beneath the chair of St. 
Peter. A solemn service is then per- 
formed, hosannas arise, and rojal vota- 
rists and diplomatic devotees parade the 
church, with guards of honour and run- 
ning footmen, while English gentlemen 

and ladies mob and scramble, and crowd 
and bribe, and fight iheir way to the bsst 
place they can obtain. 

" At the extremity of the great nave 
behind the altar, and mounted upon a 
tribune designed or ornamented by Mi- 
chael Angelo, stands a sort of ihrone, 
composed of precious materials, and sup- 
ported by four gigantic figures. A glory 
of seraphim, with groups of angels, sheds 
a brilliant light upon its splendours. This 
throne enshrines the real, plain, worm- 
eaten, wooden chair, on which St. Peter, 
the prince of the apostles, is said to have 
pontificated ; more precious than all the 
bronze, gold, and gems, with which it is 
hidden, not only from impious, but from 
holy eyes, and which once only, in the 
flight of ages, was profaned by mortal in- 

" The sacrilegious curiosity of the 
French broke through all obstacles to 
their seeing the chair of St. Peter. They 
actually removed its superb casket, and 
discovered the relic. Upon its moulder- 
ing and dusty surface were traced carv- 
ings, which bore the appearanc'e ot 
letters. The chair was quickly brought 
into a better light, the dust and cobwebs 
removed, and the inscription (for an in- 
scription it was) fi^ithfuUy copied. The 
writing is in Araoic characters, and is 
the well-known confession of Mahometan 
faith, — ' There is but one God, and Ma- 
homet is his j}rophet r It is supposed 
that this chair had been, among the spoils 
of the crusaders, offered to the church 
at a time when a taste for antiquarian 
lore, and the deciphering of inscriptions, 
were not yet in fashion. This story has 
been since hushed up, the chair replaced, 
and none but the unhallowed remember 
the fact, and none but the audacious re- 
peat it. Yet such there are, even at 
Rome !" 

St. Prisca. 

This saint's festival stands in the calen- 
dar of the church of England this day, as 
well as in that of the Romish church. 
Nothing is certainly known of her except 
that she was a Roman, and mai tyred 
about 273. 


In the London journals of January, 
1824, the following anecdote from a Car- 
low paper bears the above title : — " A 
young lady, who died in this town, had 
been some time previous to her death 



attended by a gentleman of the medical 
profession. On the evening of her de- 
cease, as this gentleman was sitting in 
company with a friend of his. and in the 
act of taking a glass of punch, he ima- 
gined he saw the lady walking into the 
room where himself and his friend were 
sitting, and, having but a few hours^ be- 
fore visited her, and found her in a dying 
state, the shock that his nerves experi- 
enced was so great, t'aat the glass which 
held the punch fell from his hands, and 
he himself dropped on the floor in a faint- 
ing fit. After he had perfectly recovered 
himself, and made inquiry about the lady, 
it was ascertained that a few minutes be- 
fore the time the medical gentleman ima- 
gined he had seen her in his friend's 
apartment, she had departed this life." 
Perhaps this vision may be illustrated by 


The Editor of the Evern-Day Book now 
relates an appearance to himself. 

One winter evening, in 1821, he was 
writing in a back room on an upper floor 
t.f the house No. 45, Ludgate-hill, where- 
in he now resides. He had been so closely 
engaged in that way and in reading dur- 
ing several preceding days, that he had 
taken every meal alone, and in that room, 
nor did he usually ^o to bed until two or 
three o'clock in the morning. In the 
early part of the particular evening al- 
luded to, his attention had become wea- 
ried. After a doze he found himself re- 
freshed, and was wrltingwhen the chimes 
of St. Paul's clock sounded a quarter to 
two : long before that dead hour all the 
family had retired to rest, and the house 
was silent. A few minutes afterwards 
he moved round his chair towards the 
fire-place, and opposite to a large pane of 
glass which let the light from the room 
into a closet otherwise dark, the door of 
which opened upon the landing-place. His 
eye turning upon the glass pane, he was 
amazed by the face of a man anxiously 
watching him from the closet, with knit 
inquiring brows. The features were pro- 
minent and haggard, and, though the look 
was somewhat ferocious, it indicated in- 
tense curiosity towards the motions of the 
writer, rather than any purpose of imme- 
diate mischief to him. The face seemed 
somewhat to recede with a quick motion 
when he first saw it, but gazing on it v/ith 
great earnestness it appeared closer to the 
glass, looking at him for a moment, and 
then with more eager ai.xiety bending its 

eyes on the writing-table, as though it 
chiefly desired to be acquainted with the 
books and papers that lay upon it. Tiie 
wider shut and rubbed his eyes, and 
tigain the eyes of the face were intently 
upon him ; watching it, he grasped the 
candlestick, strode hastily towards the 
room door, which is about two feet from 
the pane, observed the face as hastily 
draw back, unlatched the closet door on 
the landing, was in an instant within the 
closet, and there to his astonishment found 
nothing. It was impossible that the per- 
son could have escaped from the closet 
before his own foot was at its door, yet he 
examined nearly every room in the house, 
until reflecting that it was folly to see'c 
for what, he was convinced, had no bodily 
existence, he returned up stairs and went 
to bed, pondering on the recollection of 
the spectre. 


To the preceding narative the Editor 
adds an account of a subsequent appari- 
tion, which he saw, and for greater ease 
he writes it in the first person, as follows : 

In January, 1824, one, whose relation- 
ship commanded my aft'ection, was about 
to leave England with his family for a 
distant part of the world. The day or 
two preceding his departure I passed 
with him and his wife and children. Our 
separation was especially painful ; my 
mind was distressed, and I got little sleep. 
He had sailed from Gravesend about three 
days, and a letter that he had promised 
to write from the Downs had not arrived. 
On the evening of the 29th I retired late, 
and being quite wearied slept till an un- 
usually late hour the next morning, with- 
out a consciousness of having dreamed, or 
being, as I found myself, alone. With 
my head on the pillow I opened my eyes 
to an extraordinary appearance. Against 
the wall on the opposite side of the room, 
and level with my sight, the person, re- 
specting whom I had been so anxious, lay 
a corpse, extended at full length, as if rest- 
ing on a table. A greyish cloth covered 
the entire body except the face ; the eyes 
were closed, the countenance was cada- 
verous, the mouth elcngated from the 
falling of ilie jaws, and the lips were 
purpled. I shut my eyes, rubbed them 
and gently raising my head continued tc 
gaze on the body, till from weariness oi 
the attitude and exhausted spirits. I 
dropped on the pillow, and insensibly 
sunk to sleep, for perhaps a quarter of an 
hour. On again awaking, the spectre was 



not there. I then arose, and having men- 
tioned the circumstance to some of my 
family, caused a memorandum to be made 
of what I had seen. In the course of the 
forenoon a person arrived who had gone 
round witli the vessel to the Downs, from 
whence he had been put ashore the morn- 
ing before, and saw tlie ship in full sail. 
He was the bearer of the letter I had ex- 
pected from the individual aboard, whose 
appearance I had witnessed only a few 
liours previous to its being put into my 
hands ; it of course relieved no apprehen- 
sion that might have been excited by the 
recent spectre. 

" That trie dead are seen no more," 
said Imlac, " I will not undertake to 
maintain against the concurrent and un- 
varied testimony of all ages and of all na- 
tions. There is no people, rude or learn- 
ed, among whom apparitions of the dead 
are not related and believed. This opi- 
nion, which, perhaps, prevails as far as 
human nature is diffused, could become 
universal only by its truth ; those, that 
never heard of one another, would never 
have agreed in a tale v/hich nothing but 
experience can make credible. That 
it is doubted by single cavillers can 
very little weaken the general evidence, 
and some who deny it with their tongues 
confess it by their fears." 

No man is privileged to impugn the 
knowledge of existences which others 
have derived from their experience ; but 
he who sees, without assenting to reali- 
ties, audaciously rejects positive proof to 
himself, where presumptive testimony 
would be satisfactory to most : he daringly 
falsifies what he knows to be indubita- 
bly true, and secret convictions belie the 
shameless hardihood of pretended incre- 
dulity. These, it is presumed, would be 
the sentiments of the great author of 
Rasselas, upon the expression of dis- 
belief in him who had witnessed spectral 
appearances ; and yet the writer of these 
pages, with a personal knowledge upon 
the subject, declines to admit that know- 
ledge as good evidence. He would say 
untruly wei'e he to affirm, that when he 
saw the corpse-like form, and for some 
time afterwards, he had no misgivings as 
to the safety of his friend. It was not 
until a lapse of six months that the 
vessel was reported to have touched at a 
certain port in good condition, and this 
was followed by a letter from the indivi- 
dual himself, wherein he affirmed his 
good health ; he subsequently wrote, that 

lie and his family were at the place o"" 
their destination. This spectral appear 
ance therefore at Ludgate-hill, between 
eight and nine o'clock of the morning on 
the 30tn of January, was no indication Oi 
his death, nor would it have been had he 
died about that time, although the co- 
incidence of the apparition and his de- 
cease would have been remarkable. The 
case at Carlow only differs from the case 
at Ludgate-hill by the decease of the 
lady having been coeval with her spectral 
appearance to the gentleman who was 
depressed by her illness. The face which 
the writer saw looking at him from a 
closet in the dead of night was no like- 
ness of any one he knew, and he saw 
each spectre when his faculties had be-en 
forced beyond their healthful bearins:. 
Under these circumstances, his eyesigiit 
was not to be trusted, and he refuses to 
admit it, although the spectres were so 
extraordinary, and appeared under such 
circumstances that probably they will 
never be forgotten. 

Coupled with the incidents just related, 
the death of the king of Naples in Ja- 
nuary 1825, which was first announced 
in the " Neivis" Sunday paper on the IGth 
of the month, recalls the recollection ot 
a singular circumstance in the bay of 
Naples. The fact and the facts preceding 
it are related by Dr. Southey in his " Life 
of Nelson." Having spoken of Nelson's 
attachment to lady Hamilton, and his 
weariness of the world, Dr. Southey pro- 
ceeds thus : — 

" Weil had it been for fJelson if he 
had made no otiier sacrifices to this un- 
happy attachment than his peace of 
mind; but it led to the only blot upon 
his public character. While he sailed 
from Palermo, with the intention of col- 
lecting his whole force, and keeping off 
Maretimo, either to receive reinforce- 
ments there, if the French were bound 
upwards, or to hasten to Minorca, if that 
should be their destination, capt. Foote, 
in tl^e Seahorse, with the Neapolitan 
frigates and some small vessels under his 
command, was left to act with a land 
force consisting of a few regular troops, 
of four different nations, and with the 
armed rabble which cardinal Ruff"o called 
the Christian army. His directions were 
to cooperate to the utmost of his power 
with royalists, at whose head Rufib had 
been placed, and he had no other instruc- 
tions wl atever. Ruffe advancing witli- 



out any plan, bu* relying upon the ene- 
my's want of numbers, which prevented 
them from attempting to act upon the 
offensive, and ready to take advantage of 
any accident which might occur, ap- 
proached Naples. Fort St. Elmo, which 
commands the town, was wholly garrison- 
ed by the French troops ; the castles of 
LJovo and Nuovo, which commanded the 
anchorage, were chiefly defended by Nea- 
politan revolutionists, the powerful men 
among them having taken shelter there. 
If these castles were taken, the reduction 
of Fort St. Elmo would be greatly ex- 
pedited. They were strong places, and 
there was reason to apprehend that the 
French fleet might arrive to relieve them. 
Ruffo proposed to the garrison to capitu- 
late, on condition that their persons and 
property should be guaranteed, and that 
they should, at their own option, either be 
sent to Toulon, or remain at Naples, 
without being molested either in their 
persons or families. This capitulation 
was accepted : it was signed by the car- 
dinal, and the Russian and Turkish com- 
manders ; and, lastly, by capt. Foote, as 
commander of the British force. About 
six and thirty hours afterwards Nelson 
arrived in the bay, with a force which had 
.oined him during his cruise, consisting 
of seventeen sail of the line, with 1700 
troops on board, and the prince royal of 
Naples in the admiral's ship. A flag of 
truce was flying on the castles, and on 
board the Seahorse. Nelson made a sig- 
nal to annul the treaty ; declaring that he 
would grant rebels no other terms than 
those of unconditional submission. The 
cardinal objected to this: nor could all 
the arguments of Nelson, sir W. Hamil- 
ton, and lady Hamilton, who took an 
active part in the conference, convince 
bim that a tieaty of such a nature, so- 
lemnly concluded, could honourably be 
set aside. He retired at last, silenced by 
Nelson's authority, but not convinced. 
Capt. Foote was sent out of the bay ; and 
the garrisons taken out of the castles, 
under pretence of carrying the treaty into 
effect, were delivered over as rebels to 
the vengeance of the Sicilian court. — A 
deplorable transaction ! a stain upon the 
memory of Nelson, and the honour of 
England 1 To palliate it would be in 
vain ; to justify it would be wicked : 
there is no alternative, for one who will 
not make himself a participator in guilt, 
but to record the disgraceful story with 
horrow and with shame. 

" Prince Francesco Caraccioli,a young- 
er branch of one of the noblest Neapoli- 
tan families, escaped fiom one of these 
civStles before it capitulated. He was at 
the head of the marine, and was nearly 
seventy years of age, bearing a high 
character both for professional and per- 
sonal merit. He had accompanied the 
court to Sicily ; but when the revolution- 
ary government, or Parthenopaean repub 
lie, as it was called, issued an edict, 
ordering all absent Neapolitans to return, 
on pain of confiscation of their property 
he solicited and obtained permission of 
the king to return, his estates being verj 
great. It is said that the king, when he 
grLinted him this permission, warned him 
not to take any part in politics ; express- 
ing, at the same time, his own persuasion 
that he should recover his kingdom. But 
neither the king, nor he himself, ought 
to have imagined that, in such times, a 
man of such reputation would be per- 
mitted to remain inactive; and it soon 
appeared J,hat Caraccioli was again in 
command of the navy, and serving under 
the republic against his late sovereign. 
The sailors reported that he was forced 
to act thus : and this was believed, till it 
was seen that he directed ably the offen- 
sive operations of the revolutionists, and 
did not avail himself of opportunities 
for escaping when they offered. When 
the recovery of Naples was evidently 
near, he applied to cardinal Ruffo, and 
to the duke of Calvirrano, for protection ; 
expressing his hope, that the few days 
during which he had been forced to obey 
the French, would not outweigh forty 
years of faithful services : — but, perhiips, 
not receiving such assurances as he wish- 
ed, and knowing too well the temper of 
the Sicilian court, he endeavoured to 
secrete himself, and a price was set upon 
his head. More unfortunately for others 
than for himself, he was brought in alive, 
having been discovered in the disguise of 
a peasant, and carried one morning on 
board lord Nelson's ship, with his hands 
tied behind him. 

" Caraccioli was well known to the 
British ofiicers, and had been ever highly 
esteemed by all who knew him. Ctipt, 
Hardy ordered him immediately to b? 
unbound, and to be treated with all those 
attentions which he felt due to a man 
who, when last on board the Foudroyant, 
had been received as an admiral and a 
prince. Sir William and lady Hamilton 
were in the ship; but Nelson, it is aflSim 



ed, saw no one, except his own officers, 
during the tragedy which ensued. His 
own determination was made ; and he 
issued an order to the Neapolitan coni- 
inodore, count Thurn, to assemble a 
court-martial of Neapolitan officers, on 
board the British flag-ship, proceed im- 
mediately to try the prisoner, and report 
to him, if the charges were proved, what 
punishment he ought to siifler. These 
proceedings were as rapid as possible ; 
Caraccioli was brought on board at nine 
in the forenoon, and the trial began at 
ten. It lasted two hours ; he averred, in 
Iiis defence, that he acted under compul- 
sion, having been compelled to serve as a 
common soldier, till he consented to take 
command of the fleet. This, the apolo- 
gists of lord Nelson say, he failed in 
proving. They forget that the possibility 
of proving it was not allowed him ; for 
he was brought to trial within an hour 
after he was legally in arrest; and how, 
in that time, was he to collect his wit- 
nesses ? He was found guilty ,«and sen- 
tenced to death ; and Nelson gave orders 
that the sentence should be carried into 
effect that evening, at five o'clock, on 
Doard the Sicilian frigate La Minerva, by 
hanging him at the fore-yard-arm till 
sunset ; when the body was to be cut 
down, and thrown into the sea. Carac- 
cioli requested lieutenant Parkinson, un- 
der whose custody he was placed, to 
intercede with lord Nelson for a second 
trial, — for this, among other reasons, that 
count Thurn, who presided at the court- 
martial, was notoriously his personal ene- 
my. Nelson made answer, that the pri- 
soner had been fairly tried by the officers 
of his own country, and he could not 
interfere : forgetting that, if he felt him- 
self justified in ordering the trial and the 
execution, no human being could ever 
have questioned the propriety of his m- 
terfering on the side of mercy. Carac- 
cioli then entreated that he might be shot. 
— ' I am an old man, sir,' said he : * I 
leave no family to lament me, and there- 
fore cannot be supposed to be very anxi- 
ous about prolonging my life ; but the 
disgrace of being hanged is dreadful to 
me.' When this was repeated to Nel- 
son, he only told the lieutenant, with 
much agitation, to go and attend his duty. 
As a last hope, Caraccioli asked the lieu- 
tenant, if he thought an application to 
lady Hamilton would be benelicial ? 
Parkinson went to seek her. She was 
not to be seen on this occasion, — but she 

was present at the execution. She had 
the most devoted attachment to the Nea- 
politan court ; and the hatred which she 
felt against those whom she regarded as 
its enemies, made her, at this time, forget 
what was due to the character of her sex, 
as well as of her country. Here, also, a 
faithful historian is called upon to pro- 
nounce a severe and unqualified condemn- 
ation of Nelson's conduct. Had he the 
authority of his Sicilian majesty for pro- 
ceeding as he did .' If so, why was not 
that authority produced '. If not, why 
were the proceedings hurried on without 
it ? Why was the trial precipitated, so 
that it was impossible for the prisoner, if 
he had been innocent, to provide the wit- 
nesses who might have proved him so ? 
Why was a second trial refused, when 
the known animosity of the president of 
the court against the prisoner was con- 
sidered ? Why was the execution hast- 
ened, so as to preclude a:.y appeal for 
mercy, and render the prprogative of 
mercy useless ?- — Doubtless, the British 
admiral seemed to himself to be acting 
under a rigid sense of justice ; but, to all 
other persons, it was obvious, that he was 
influenced by an infatuated attachment — 
a baneful passion, which destroyed his 
domestic happiness, and now, in a second 
instance, stained ineffiiceably his public 

" The body was carried out to a con- 
siderable distance, and sunk in the bay, 
with three double-headed shot, weighing 
250 pounds, tied to its legs. Between 
two and three weeks aftenvard, when the 
king was on board the Foudroyant, a 
Neapolitan fisherman came to the ship, 
and solemnly declared, that Caraccioli 
had risen from the bottom of the sea, and 
was coming, as fast as he could, to Na- 
ples, swimming half out of the water. 
Such an account was listened to like a 
tale of idle credulity. The day being 
fair. Nelson, to please the king, stood out 
to sea ; but the ship had not proceeded 
far before a body was distinctly seen, up- 
right in the water, and approaching them. 
It was soon recognised to be, indeed, the 
corpse of Caraccioli, which had risen, 
and floated, while the great weights at- 
tached to the legs kept the body in a po- 
sition like that of a living man. A fact 
so extraordinary astonished the king, and 
perhaps excited some feeling of supersti- 
tious fear, akin to regret. He gave per- 
mission for the body to be taken on shorp, 
and receive christian burial." 

Vol. L 




Tne late Dr. ClarKe mentions in his 
' Travels," that as he was " one day lean- 
in" out of the cabin window, by the side 
of an officer who was employed in fisliinsj:, 
the corpse of a man, newly sewed in a 
hammock, started half out of the water, 
and continued its course, with the current, 
towards the shore. Nothing could be 
more horrible : its head and shoulders 
were visible, turning first to one side, 
then to the other, with a solemn and awful 
movement, as if impressed with some 
dreadful secret of the deep, which, from 
its watery grave, it came upwards to re- 
veal." Dr. Ferriar observes, that " in 
a certain stage of putrefaction, the bodies 
of persons which have been immersed in 
water, rise to the surface, and in deep 
water are supported in an erect posture, 
to the terror of un instructed spectators. 
Menacing looks ani gestures, and even 
words, are supplied by the affrighted 
imagmation, with infinite facility, and re- 
ferred to the horrible apparition." This 
is perfectly natural ; and it is easy to 
imagine the excessive terror of extreme 
ignorance at such appearances. 

Sanuaii) 19* 

Sts. Martha, Maris, Judifax, and 
Ahachnm. St. Canntns. St. Henri/. St. 
Wulstan St. Blaithmaie. St. Lomer. 
Sts. Martha, Maris, ^c. 

St. Martha was married to St. Maris, 
and with their sons, Sts. Audifax and 
Abachum, were put to death under Aure- 
lian (a.d. 270.) Butler says, that their 
relics were found at Rome, in 1590, one 
thousand three hundred and twenty years 


The monks, or the observers of monkish 
rules, have compiled a Catalogue of Mow- 
ers for each day in the year, and dedi- 
cated each flower to a particular saint, on 
account of its flowering about the time of 
the saint's festival. Such appropriations 
are a Floral Directory throughout the 
year, and will be inserted under the suc- 
seeding days. Those which belong to 
this and the eighteen preceding days in 
January are in the following list : — 


1st. St. Fahie. New Year's Day. 
Laurustine. Viburnum Times. 

2d. St. Macarins. 
r.roundsel. Senecio vulgarii 

3d. St. Genevieve. 
Persian Fleur-de-lis. Iris Penica. 

4tti. St. Titus 
Hazel. Cori/lus avcllana. 

otn. St. Simeon Styliles. 
Bearsfoot. Hellcburns fu;tidus. 

6th. St. Nilammon. 
Screw Moss. Tortula rigida. 
7th. St. Kentigern. 
Portugal Laurel. Pruniis Ltisitanica. 

8th. St. Gudula. 
Yellow Tremella. Tremella delifjnescens 

9th. St. Marciana. 
Common Laurel. Prnnns Laurocerasus 

10th. St. iniUane. 
Gorse. Ulex Etiropceas. 

nth. St. Theodosius. 
Early Moss. Brynm horceum. 
1 2th. St. Arcadiiis. 
Ilygrometic Moss. Funaria hygrometica. 

13th. St. Veronica. 
Yew Tree. Taxus baccuta. 

14th. St Hilary. 
Barren Strawberry. Fragaria sterilis 

1 5th. St. Paul the Hermit. 
Ivy. Hedera helix. 

16th. St. Marcellus. 
Common Dead Nettle. Larnium jmrpu- 

17lh. hony. 

Garden Anemone. - nemoue hortensis. 

18th. St. Prisca. 
Four-toothed Moss. Bryum pellucidum, 

19th. St. ha. 

White Dead Nettle. ium album. 


In tlie " Flora Domestica" there is a 
beautiful quotation from Cowley, in proof 
that the emperor Dioclesian preferred his 
garden to a throne : 

Melhinks I see great Dioclesian walk 
Tn the Salonian garden's noble shade, 
Wliich by his own imperial hands was made 

I see him smile, methinks, as he does talk 
With the ambassadors, who come in vain 
1" entice him to a throne again. 
" If I, my friends," said he, " should to you 

All the delights which in these gardens grow, 
'I'is likelier far that \ou with me should stay. 
Than 'tis that you should carry me away ; 
And trust me not, my friends, if, every day, 
I walk not here with 'no"e delight, 
Than ever, after the most happy fight, 
In triumph to the capitol 1 rode. 
To thank the gods, and to be il.'omiht irvspll 
J«nost a god." 



To the author of the " Flora Domes- flowers courting the look by their varied 
tica," and to the reader who may not have loveliness, and the smell by their delicacy ; 
seen a volume so acceptable to the cuiti- large juicy apples bowing down the almost 
vator of flowers, it would be injustice to tendril-shootswherefrora they miraculously 
extract from its pages without remarking sprmg; plants of giant growth with mul- 
its usefulness, and elegance of coniposi- tiform shrubs beyond, and holly-hock': 
tion. Lamenting that " plants often meet towering like painted pinnacles from hid- 
with an untimely death from the jgno- den shrines : 
ranee of their nurses," the amiable 
author " resolved to obtain and to com- 
municate such information as should be 
requisite for the rearing and preserving a 
vortable garden in pots ; — and hencefor- 
ward the death of any plant, owing to the 
carelessness or ignorance of its nurse, 
shall be brought in at the best as plant- 

Can imagination boast, 

The cultivation of plants commences 
with our infancy. If estranged from it 
by the pursuits of active life, yet, during 
a few years' retirement from the " treat 
hum" of a noisy world, we naturally 
recur to a garden as to an old and cheer- 
ful friend whom we had forgotten or 

neglected, and verify the saying, " once ^'^^ garments of people, and even the 
a man, and twice a child." There is not plumage of birds, so that many rooks 
" one of woman born " without a sense of and other fowls were found lying on the 

'Mid all its gay creation, charms like these 1 

, Dr. Forster, tlie scientific author of a 
treatise on " Atmospheiic Phenome:ia," 
and other valuable works, has included 
numerous useful observations on the wea- 
ther in his recently published " Perennial 
Calendar," a volume replete with instruc- 
tion and entertainment. He observes, 
in the lattc- work, that after certain atmo- 
spheric appearances on this day in the 
year 1809, " a hard and freezing shower 
of hail and sleet came with considerable 
violence from the east, and glazed every 
thing on which it fell with ice; it in- 
crusted the walls, encased the trees and 

ground, stiff with an encasement of ice 
Such weather," Dr. Forsler observes, 
" has been aptly described by Philips aj 
occurring oftentimes during a northern 
winter: — 

pleasure when he sees buds bursting into 
leaf; earth yielding green shoots from 
germs in its warm bosom ; white fruit- 
blossoms, tinted with rose-blusl\es, stand- 
ing out in clumps from slendei" branches; 

Ere yet the clauds let fall the treasured snow. 

Or winds begun through hazy skies to blow. 

At evening a keen eastern breeze arose. 

And the descending rain unsullied froze. 

Soon as the silent shades of night withdrew, 

The ruddy morn disclosed at once to view 

The face of Nature in a rich disguise. 

And brightened every object to my eyes ; 

For every shrub, and every blade of grass, 

And every pointed thorn, seemed wrought in glass , 

In pearls and rubies rich the hawthorns show. 

While through the ice the crimson berries glow, 

The thick -sprung reeds the watery marshes yield 

Seem polished lances in a hostile field. 

The stag in limpid currents, with surprise. 

Sees crystal branches on his forehead rise. 

The spreading oak, the beech, and tow'ring pine, 

Glaz'd over, in the freezing ether shine. 

The frighted birds the rattling branches shun. 

That wave and glitter in the distant sun. 

When, if a sudden gust of wind arise. 

The brittle forest into atoms flies ; 

The cracking wood beneath the tempest bends. 

And in a spangled shower the prospect ends. 

Philips, Lett, from Copenhagm. 

" It may be observed, that in both the the storm. There is something very rc- 
:>bove descriptions of similar phenomena, markably unwholesome in east winds 
'lie east wind is recorded as bringing up and a change to that quarter often di'= 



turbs the nervous system and digestive 
organs of many persons, causing head- 
aches, fevers, and other disorders. More- 
over, a good astronomical observation 
cannot be made when the wind is east : 
the star seems to oscillate or dance about 
in the field of the telescope." 

In the truth of these observations as 
regards health, he who writes this is un- 
happily qualified to concur from expe- 
rience ; and were it in his power, would 
ever shun the north-east as his inosl 
fearful enemy. 

Sir, the north-east, more fierce than Russian cold. 

Pierces the very marrow in the bones. 

Presses upon the brain an arid weight. 

And superflows life's current with a force 

That checks the heart, and soul, and mind, and strength, 

In all their purposes. 

Up with the double window-sashes— quick ! 
Close every crevice from the withering blast. 
And stop the keyhole tight— the wind-fiend comes! ^ 

St. Fabian, Pope. St. Sebastian. St. 

Euthymiiis. St. Fechin. 

St. Fabia)i. 

Tliis saint is in the church of England 

calendar; he was bishop of Rome, a. d, 

250 : the Romish calendar calls him pope. 

St. Sebastian's Day 

Is noted inDoblada'sLetters from Spain, 
as within the period that ushers in the car- 
nival with rompings in the streets, and 
vulgar mirth. 

" The custom alluded to by Horace of 
sticking a tail, is still practised by the 
boys in the streets, to tlie great annoyance 
of old ladies, who are generally the ob- 
jects of this sport. One of the ragged 
striplings that wander in crowds about 
Seville, having tagged a piece of paper 
with a hooked pin, and stolen unperceiv- 
ed behind some slow-paced female, as 
wrapt up in her veil, she tells the beads 
she carries in her left hand, fastens tiie 
paper-tail on the back of the black or 
walking petticoat called Saya. The whole 
gang of ragamuffins, who, at a convenient 
distance, have watched the dexterity of 
their companion, set up a loud cry of 
' Largalo, largalo' — ' Drop it, drcp it' — 
this makes every female in the street look 
to the rear, which, they well know, is the 
fixed point of attack with the merry light- 
troops. The alarm continues till some 
friendly hand relieves the victim of sport, 
who, spinning and nodding like a spent 
top, tries in vain to catch a glance at the 

tast-pinnc-d paper, unmindful of the phy- 
sical law which forbids her head revolving 
faster than the great orbit on which the 
ominous comet flies." 


Formerly this was a night of great im- 
port to maidens who desired to know who 
they should marry. Of such it was re- 
quired, that they should not eat on this 
day, and those who conformed to the 
rule, called it fasting St. Agnes' fast. 

And on sweet St. Agnes' night 
Please you with the promis'j sight, 
Some of husbands, some of lovers;, 
Which an empty dream discovers. 

13en Jonson. 

Old Aubrey has a recipe, whereby a 
lad or lass was to attain a sight of the 
fortunate lover. " Upon St. Agnes' night 
you take a row of pins, and pull out every 
one, one after another, saying a Pater 
Noster, sticking a pin in your sleeve, and 
you will dream of him or her you shall 

Little is remembered of these homely 
methods for knowing " all about sweet- 
hearts," and the custom would scarcely 
have reached the greater number of read- 
ers, if one of the sweetest of our modern 
poets had not preserved its recollection in 
a delightful poem. Some stanzas are 
culled from it, with the hope that they 
may be read by a few to whom the poetry 
of Keates is unknown, and awaken a de- 
sire for further acquaintance with his 
beauties :— 



The Eve of St. Agnrs. 

St. Agnes' Eve 1 Ah, titter chill it was ! 

The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold ; 

The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen prass, 

And silent was the flock in woolly fold . 


They told her how, upon St. Agnes' Eve, 
Young virgins might have visions of delight 
And soft adorings from their loves receive 
Upon the honey 'd middle of the night, 
If ceremonies due they did aright ; 
As, supperless to bed they must retire, 
And couch supine their beauties, lily white ; 
Nor look behind, nor sideways, but require 
Of Heaven with upward eyes for all that they desire 

Full of this whim was thoughtful Madeline 

Out went the taper as she hurried in ; 
Its little smoke, in pallid moonshine, died : 
She clos'd the door, she panted, all akin 
To spirits of the air, and visions wide 
No uttered syllable, or, woe betide ! 
But to her heart, her heart was voluble. 
Paining with eloquence her balmy side ; 
As though a tongueless nightingale should swell 
Her throat in vain, and die, heart-stifled, in her dell. 

A casement high and triple arch'd there was, 
All garlanded with carven imag'ries 
Of fruits, and flowers, and bunches of knot grass, 
And diamonded with panes of quaint device 
Innumerable of stains and splendid dyes. 
As are the tiger-moth's deep damask'd wings ; 
And in the midst, 'mong thousand heraldries. 
And twilight saints, with dim emblazonings, 
A shielded 'scutcheon blush 'd wiih blood of queens and kitirs 

Full on this casement shone the wintry moon. 
And threw warm gules on Madeline's fair breast. 
As down she knelt for Heaven's grace and boon ; 
Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest. 
And on her silver cross soft amethyst. 
And on her hair a glory, like a saint: 
She seem'd a splendid angel, newly drest. 
Save wings, for Heaven : — 

■ Iler vespers done 

Of all its wreathed pearls her hair she frees ; 
Unclasps her warmedjewels one by one ; 
Loosens her fragrant boddice ; by degrees 
Her rich attire creeps rustling to her knees • 
Half-hidden, like a mermaid in sea-weed, 
Pensive awhile she dreams awake, and sees, 
la fancy, fair St. Agnes in her bed, 
Bnt dares not look behind, or all the charm is fled. 

Soon, trembling in her soft and chilly nest. 
In sort of wakeful swoon, perplex'd she lay, 
Until the poppied warmth of sleep oppress'd 
Her soothed limbs, and soul fatigued away ; 
Flown, like a thought, until the morrow day. 
Blissfully haven'd both from joy and pain ; 
Clasp 'd like a missal where swart Paynims pray ; 
Blinded alike from sunshine and from rain. 
As though a rose should shut, and be a bud aE;aln. 



Stol'n to this paradise, and soextranced, 
Porphyro gazed upon her empty diess, 
And listened to her breathing. 

Shaded was her dream 

Bv the dusk curtains : — 'twas a midnight cliarni 
Impossible to melt as iced stream : — 

»# • ♦ * # • 

He took her hollow lute, — 
Tumultuous, — and, in chords that tenderest be. 
He play'd an ancient ditty, long smce mute. 
In Provence call'd, " La belle dame sans mercy :•* 
Close to her ear touching the nie.lody ; — 
Wherewith disturb'd, she utter'd a soft moan: 
He ceas'd — she panted quick — and suddenly 
Her blue affrayed eyes wide open shone : 
Cpon his knees he sank, pale as smooth-sculptured stontr. 

Her eyes were open, but she still beheld, 
Now wide awake, the vision of her sleep : 
There was a painful change, that nigh expell'd 
The blisses of her dream so pure and deep. 
At which fair Madeline began to weep, 
And moan forth witless words wiih many a sigh , 
While still her gaze on Porphyro would keep ; 
Who knelt, with joined hands and piteous eye. 
Fearing to move or speak, she look'd sodreamingly 

" Ah, Porphyro !" said she, " but even now 
" Thy voice was at sweet tremble in mine ear, 
" ]\Iade tuneable with every sweetest vow ; 
" And those sad eyes were spiritual and clear ; 
" Hovv chang'd thou art ! how pallid, chill, and dres, 
" Give me that voice again, my Porphyro, 
" Those looks immortal, those complainings dear '. 
" Oh, leave me not in this eternal woe, 
•* For if thou diest, my love, I know not where to go." 

Beyond a mortal man inipassion'd far 
At these voluptuous accents, he arose. 
Ethereal, flush'd, and like a throbbing star. 
Seen 'mid the sapphire heaven's deep repose. 
Into her dream he melted, as the rose 
Blendeth its odour with the violet, — 
Solution sweet : meantime the frost-wind blows 
Like Love's alarum pattering the sharp sleet 
Against the window-panes. 

" Hark ! 'tis an elfin-storm from faery land, 
" Of haggard seeming, but a boon indeed 
•' Arise — arise ! the morning is at hand ; — 
" Let us away, my love, with happy speed.— 

• «•*«** 

And they are gone : ay, ages long ago 
These lovers fled away into tlie storm. 


St. Fabiaiy 
Large Dead Nettle. Larnium garganicum. 





Tlie sun enters Aquarius on this day, 
though he does not enter it in the visible 
zodiac until the 18th of February. 

Ganymede, who succeeded Hebe as 
cup-bearer to Jove, is fabled to have been 
changed into Aquarius. Canobus of the 
Egyptian zodiac, who was the Neptune 
of the Egyptians, with a water-vase and 
measure, evidently prefigured this con- 
stellation. They worshipped him as. the 
God of iivany breasts, from whence he re- 
plenished the Niie "with fertilizing streams. 
Aquarius contains one hundred and eight 
stars, the two chief of which aie about 
fifteen degrees in height : 
His head, his shoulders, and liis lucid breast, 
Glisten with stars ; and when his urn inclines. 
Rivers of light brighten the watery track. 



St. ylgnes. St Fructuosnn, Sfc. St. 

Vbnin, or Vivian. St. Pubhus. St. 


St. Agnes. 

"She has always been looked upon,'' 
says Butler, " as a special patroness of 
purity, with the immaculate mother 
of God." According to him, she suffered 
martyrdom, about 304, and performed 

wonderful miracles before her deatIi,whicL 
was by beheading, when she was thirteen 
years old ; whereupon he enjoins females 
to a single life, as better than a married 
one, and says, that her anniversary " was 
formerly a holiday for the women in 
England." Ribadeneira relates, that she 
was to have been burned, and was put into 
the fire for that purpose, but the flames, 
refusing to touch her, divided on each 
side, burnt some of the bystanders, and 
then quenched, as if there had been 
none made : a compassionate quality in 
tire, of which iron was not sensible, for 
her head was cut ofl at a single blow 
Her legend further relates, that eight days 
aftei her death she came to her parents 
arrayed in white, attended by virgins with 
garlands of pearls, and a lamb whiter 
than snow ; she is tlierefore usually repre- 
sented by artists with a lamb by her side ; 
though not, as Mr. Brand incautiously 
says, " in every graphic representation." 
It is fiirther related, that a priest who offi- 
ciated in a church dedicated to St. Agnes, 
was very desirous of being married. He 
prayed the pope's license, who gave it 
him, together with an emerald ring, and 
commanded him to pay bis addresses to 
ihe image of St. Agnes in his own church 
Then the priest did so, and the image put 
forth her finger, and he put the ring there- 
on ; whereupon the image drew her fin- 
ger again, and kept the ring fast, and 
the Drie.«* was contented to remain a ba- 



cfielor; " and yet, as it is sayd, the rynge secrated animals were afte; wards shorn, 

IS on the fynger of the ymage " 

In a Romish Missal printed at Paris, in 
1520, there is a prayer to St. Agnes, re- 
markably presumptive of her powers ; it 
is thus englished by Bp. Patrick ; 

Agues, who art the Lamb's chaste spouse, 
Enlighten thou our minds within ; 

Not oniy lop the spreading boughs, 
liut root out of us every sin. 

O, Lady, singularly great. 
After this state, with grief opprest 

Translate us to that quiet seat 
Above, to triumph with tlie blest. 

and palls made from tlieir fleeces ; for each 
of which, it is said, the pope exacted oi 
the bishops from eight to ten, or thirty 
thousand crowns, and that the custom 
originated with Limes, who succeeded the 
apostle Peter : whereupon Naogeorgus 

But where was ^gucs at that time ? 

wlio oflied up, and how. 
The two while lambes ? where then was 

as it is used now 1 
Yea, where was then the Popish state, 

and dreadfull monarcliee ? 
Sure in Saint Austen's time, there were 

no palles at Rome to see, &c. 

In Jepbson's " Manners, &c. of France 
and Italy,'' there is one dated from Rome, 
February, 14, 1793. That this ceremony 
was then in use, is evident from the fol- 
lowing lines : — 

From Naogeorgus, we gather that in St. 
Agnes' church at Rome, it was custo- 
mary on St. Agnes' Day to bring two 
snow-white lambs to the altar, upon which 
they were laid while the Ac;nus was 
singing by way of offering. These con- 

Sl. ^gnes Shrine. 
Where each pretty BaAzmh most gaily appears, 
With ribands stuck round on its tail and its ears ; 
On gold fringed cushions they're stretch'd out to eat. 
And piously ba, and to church-musick bleat ; 
Yet to me iliey seem'd crying, alack, and alas ! 
What's all this white damask to daisies and grass? 
Then they're brought to the Pope, and with transport they're kiss'd, 
And receive consecration trom Sanctity's fist. 

Blessinsc of Sheep 
Stopford, in " Pagano-Papismus," re- 
cites this ceremony of the Romish church. 
Tiie sheep were brouoht into the church, 
and the priest, having blessed some salt 
and water, read in one corner this gospel, 
" To us a child is born," &c. with the 

sung the mass of the Holy Ghost, and at 
the conclusion, an offering of fourpence 
was for himself, and another of three- 
pence was for the poor. This ceremony 
was adopted by the Romish church from 
certain customs of the ancient Romans, 
in their worship of Pales, the goddess of 

whole office, a farthing being laid upon sheepfolds and pastures. They prayed 

the book, and taken up again ; in the 
second corner he read this gospel, " Ye 
men of Galilee," &c. with the whole 
office, a farthing being laid upon the 
book, and taken up again ; in the tliird 
corner he read this gospel, " I am 
the good shepherd," &c. with the whole 
office, a farthing being laid upon the 
book, and taken up again ; and in the 
fourth corner he read this gospel, " In 
these days," &c. with the whole office, 
a farthing being laid upon the book, and 
taken up again After that, he sprinkled 
all the sheep with holy water, saying, 
" Let the blessing of God, the Fathei 
Almighty, descend and remain upon you ; 
in the name of the Father, and of the Son, 
andof the Holy Gliost. Amen." Then he 
signed all the sheep with the sign of the 
cross, repeated thrice some Latin verses, 
with the Paternoster and Ave-Marias, 

her to bless the sheep, and sprinkled them 
with water. The chief difference between 
the forms seems to have consisted in this, 
that the ancient Romans let the sheep 
remain in their folds, while the moderns 
drove them into the church. 

Christmas Rose. 


St. j4gne.t. 

Hellebortts nrger Jlor^ 


Dainty young thing 
Of life ! — Thou vent'rous flower, 
Who growest througli the hard, cold 

Of wintry Spring : — 

Thou various-hued. 
Soft, voiceless bell, whose spire 
Rocks in the grassy leaves like wire 

In solitude :— 



Like Pulience, thou 
Art quiet in thy earth, 
Instructing Hope that Virtue's birth 
Is Feeling's vow. 
Thy fancied bride ! 
The delicate Snowdrop, keeps 
Her home with thee ; she wakes and sleeps 
Near thy true side. 
Will Man but hear ! 
A simple flower can tell 
What beauties in his mind shoiild dwell 
Through Passion's spliere. 

J. R. Prior. 
1793. On the 21st of January, Louis 
XV'I. was beheaded at Paris, in the thirty- 
ninth year of his age, and nineteenth of 
his reign, under circumstances which 
are in the recollection of many, and 
known to most persons. A similar in- 
strument to the guillotine, the machine 
by which Louis XVI. was put to death, 
was formerly used in England. It was 
firit introduced into France, during the 
revolution, by Dr. Guillotine, a physician, 
and hence its name. 


The History of Halifax in Yorkshire, 
12mo. 1T12, sets forth " a true account 
of their ancient, odd, customary gibbet- 
law ; and their particular form of trying 
and executing of criminals, the like not 
us'd in any other place in Great Britain." 
The Halifax gibbet was in the form of the 
guillotine, and its gibbet-law quite as re- 
markable. The work referred to, which is 
more curious than rare, painfully endea- 
vours to prove this law wise and salutary. 
It prevailed only within the forest of 
Hardwick, which was subject to the lord 
of the manor of Wakefield, a part of the 
duchy of Lancaster. If a felon were 
taken within the liberty of the forest with 
cloth, or other commodity, of the value of 
thirteen-pence halfpenny, he was, after 
three market-days from his apprehension 
and condemnation, to be carried to the 
gibbet, and there have his head cut off 
from his body. When first taken, he was 
brought to the lord's bailiff in Halifax, 
who kept the town, had also the keeping 
of the axe, and was the executioner at the 
gibbet. "This officer summoned a jury of 
frith-burghers to try him on the evi- 
dence of witnesses not upon oath: if ac- 
quitted], he was set at liberty, upon pay- 

ment of his fees ; if convicted, lie was set 
in the stocks on each of tlie three subse- 
quent market-days in Halifax, with the 
stolen goods on his back, if they weru 
portable; if not, they were placed before 
his face. This was for a terror to others, 
and to engage any who had aught against 
him, to bring accusations, although after 
the three market-days he was sure to be 
executed for the ofi'ence already proved 
upon him. But the convict had the sa- 
tisfaction of knowing, that after he was 
put to death, it was the duty of the coro- 
ner to summon a jury, " and sometimes 
the same jury that condemned him," to 
inquire into the cause of his death, and 
that a return thereof would be made into 
the Crown-office ; " which gracious and 
sage proceedings of the coroner in tliat 
matter ought, one would think, to abate, 
in all considering minds, that edge of acri- 
mony which hath provoked malicious and 
prejudiced persons to debase this laudable 
and necessary custom." So says the book. 
In April, 1650, Abraham Wilkinson 
and Anthony Mitchell were found guilty 
of stealing nine yards of cloth and two 
colts, and on the 30th of the month re- 
ceived sentence, " to suffer death, by 
having their head? severed and cut off 
from their bodies at Halifax gibbet," and 
they suffered accordingly. These were 
the last persons executed under Halifax 

The execution was in this manner : — 
The prisoner being brought to the scaffold 
by the bailiff, the axe was drawn up by a 
pulley, and fastened with a pin to the 
side of the scaffold. " The bailiff, the 
jurors, and the minister chosen by the 
prisoner, being always upon the scaffold 
with the prisoner, in most solemn manner, 
after the minister had finished his minis- 
terial office and christian duty, if it was 
a horse, an ox, or cow, kc. that was taken 
with the prisoner, it was thither brought 
along with him to the place of execution, 
and fastened by a cord to the pin that 
stay'd the block, so that when the lime 
of the execution came, (which was known 
by the jurors holding up one of theii 
hands,) the bailiff, or his servant, whip- 
ping the beast, the pin was pluck'd out, 
and execution done ; but if there wereny 
beast in the case, then the bailiff, or his 
servant, cut the rope." 




But if tlie lelon, after his apprehension, 
or in his going to execution, happened to 
make his escape out of the forest of Hard- 
wick, which liberty, on the east end of 
the town, doth not extend above the 
breadth of a small river ; on the north 
about six hundred paces; on the south 
about a mile ; but on the west about ten 
miles; — if such an escape were made, 
then the bailiff of Halifax had no power 
to apprehend him out of his liberty ; but 
if ever the felon came agaia into the 
liberty of Hardwick, and were taken, he 
was certainly executed. One Lacy, who 
made his escape, and lived seven years 
out of the liberty, after that time coming 
boldly within the liberty of Hardwick, 
was retaken, and executed upon his for- 
mer verdict of condemnation 

The records of executions by the Ha- 
hfax gibbet, before the time of Elizabeth, 
are lost ; but during her reign twenty- 
five persons suETered under it, and from 

1G23 to 1650 there were twelve execu- 
tions. The machine is destroyed. The 
engraving placed above, represents the 
instrument, from a figure of it in an old 
map of Yorkshiie, which is altogether 
better than the print of it in the work 
before cited 

The worthy author of the Halifax 
gibbet-book seems by his title to be well 
assured, th it the machine was limited to, 
and to the sole use and behoof of, his 
district ; but in this, as in some other 
particulars, he is mistaken, 

A small print by Aldegraver, one of 
the little German masters, in 1553, now 
lying before the writer, represents the 
execution of Manlius, the Roman, by the 
same instrument ; and he has a similar 
print by Pens, an early engiaver of that 
school. There are engravings of it in 
books printed so early as 1510. In 
Holimsbed's Chronicle there is a cit of 



a man ^^ l.o had attempted the life of 
Henry III. suffering by this instrument. 
In Fox's " Acts and Monuments," there 
is another execution in the same manner. 
The " maiden" by which James, earl 
of Morton, the regent of Scotland, was 
put to death for high treason in 1581, 
was of tliis form, and is said to have been 
constructed by his order from a model of 
one that he had seen in England : he was 
the first and last person who suffered by 
it in Scotland; and it still exists in the 
parliament-house at Edinburgh. In "The 
Cloud of Witnesses; or the last Speeches 
of Scottish Martyrs since 1680," there is 
a print of an execution in Scotland by a 
similar instrument. The construction of 
such a machine was in contemplation for 
the beheading of lord Lovat in 1747 : he 
approved the notion — " My neck is very 
short," he said, " and the executioner 
will be puzzled to find it out with 
liis axe: if they make the machine, I 
suppose they will call it lord Lovat's 

Randle Ilolmc in his " Armory" de- 
scribes an heraldic quartering thus : — 
" He beareth gules, a heading -block 
fixed between two supporters, with an 
axe placed therein ; on the sinister side a 
maule, all proper." This agreeable bear- 
ing he figures as tne reader sees it. 

Holme observes, that " this was the 
Jews' and Romans' way of beheading of- 
fenders, as some write, though others say 
they used to cut off the heads of such, 
with a sharp, two-handed sword : how- 
ever, this way of decollation was by lay- 
ing the neck of the malefactor on the 
block, and then setting the axe upon it, 
which lay in a rigget in the two side- 
Dosts or supporters ; the executioner with 

the violence of a blow on the hean of thv 
axe, with his heavy maul, iorced it througii 
the man's neck into the block. I have 
seen the draugnt of the like heading-in- 
strument, where the weighiy axe (made 
heavy for that purpose) was raised up 
and fell down in such a riggetted frame, 
which being suadenly let to fall, the 
weight of it was sufficient to cut off a 
man's head at one blow." 


Remarkable instances of the mildness 
of January, 1825, are recorded in the 
provincial and London journals. In tfie 
first week a man plantini? a hedge near 
Mansfield, in Yorkshire, found a black- 
bird's nest with four young ones in it. 
The Westmoreland Gazette states, that on 
the 13th a fine ripe strawberry was ga- 
thered in the garden of Mr. W. White- 
head, Storth End, near End-Moor, and 
about the same tiir.e a present of the 
same fruit was made by Thomas Wilson, 
Esq. Thorns, Underbanow, to Mr. Alder- 
man Smith Wilson, some of them larcer 
in bulk than the common hazel-nut. In- 
deed the forwardness of the season in the 
north appears wonderful. It is stated in 
the Glasgow Chronicle of the 11th, that on 
the 7th, bees were flying about in the gar- 
den of Rose-mount; on the 9th, the sky was 
without a cloud ; there was scarcely a 
breath of wind, the blackbirds were sing- 
ing as if welcoming the spring ; pastures 
wore a fine, fresh, and healthy appear- 
ance ; the wheat-braird was strong, thick 
in the ground, and nearly covering the 
soil ; vegetation going on in the gardens ; 
the usual syjring flowers making their ap- 
pearance ; the Chris*jnas rose, the snow- 
drop, the polyanthea, the single or border 
anemone, the hepatica in its varieties, and 
the mazerion were in full bloom ; the 
Narcissus making its appearance, and the 
crocusses showing colour. On the 11th, 
at six o'clock, the thermometer in Nelson- 
street, Glasgow, indicated 44 degrees 
on the 9th, the barometer gained the ex- 
traordinary height of 31-01 ; on the 11th, it 
was at 30-8. The Sheffield Mercury re- 
presents, that within six or seven weeks 
preceding the middle of the month, the 
barometer had been lower and higher than 
had been remarked by any living indivi- 
dual in that town. On the 23d of No- 
vember it was so low as 27'5 ; and on 
the 9th of January at 1 1 p. m. it stood at 
30-65. In the same place the following 
meteorological observations were mofle • 



January, 1825. 

TEN o'clock a. M. DO. P. M. 

lltli 42 ."^S 

12tli 43 37 

VM\\ 44 40 

14th 44 43 

TEN o'clock a. M. do. P. M. 

llth 30-4 .... 30-3 

12th 30-3 .... 30-2 

13th 30-5 , . . . 29-9 

14tl> 29-5 .... 29-7 

At Paris, in the latter end of 1824, the 
barometer was exceedingly high, consi- 
dering the bad weather that had prevail- 
ed, and the moisture of the atmosphere. 
There l>ad been almost constant and in- 
cessant rain. The few intervals of fair 
weather, were when the wind got round a 
few points to the west, or the northward 
of west : but invariably, a few hours 
after, the wind again got to the south- 
west, and the rain commenced falling. It 
appeared as if a revolution had taken 
place in the laws of the barometer. The 
barometer in London was at 30-48 in 
May, 1824, and never rose higher during 
Uie whole year. 

Sanuarp 22. 

St. Vincent. St. Anastasius. 

St. Vincent was a Spanish martyr, said 
to have been tormented by fire, so that he 
died in 304. His name is in the church 
of England calendar. Butler affirms that 
his body was " thrown in a marshy field 
among rushes, but a crow defended it 
from wild beasts and birds of prey." The 
Golden Legend says that angels had 
the guardianship of the body, that the 
crow attended to drive away birds and 
fowls greater than himself, and that after 
he had chased a wolf with his bill and 
beak, he then turned his head towards 
the body, as if he marvelled at the keep- 
ing of it by the angels. His relics ne- 
cessarily worked miracles wherever they 
were kept. For their collection, separa- 
tion, and how they travelled from place to 
place, see Butler. 

Brand, from a MS. note by Mr. Douce, 
referring to Scot's " Discoverie of Witch- 
craft," cites an old injunction to observe 
whether the sun shines on St. Vincenl's- 
day : 
" Vincenti festo si Sol radiet memcr cste." 

Jt iit thus done into English by Abraham 

Remember on St. Vincent's day 
If that the sun his beams displiy 

Dr. Forster, in the " Perennial Calen- 
dar," is at a loss for the origin of the com- 
mand, but he thinks it may have been 
derived from a notion that the sun would 
not shine unominously on the day whereon 
the saint was burnt. 


1800. — On the 22d of January, in this 
year, died George Steevens, Esq. F. R. S. 
F. A. S. He was born at Stepney, in 
1751 or 1752, and is best known as the 
editor of Shakspeaie, though to the ver- 
satility and richness of his talents there are 
numerous testimonials. He maintained 
the greatest perseverance in every thing 
he undertook. He never relaxed, but 
sometimes broke off favourite habits ol 
long indulgence suddenly. In this way 
he discontinued his daily visits to two 
booksellers. This, says his biographer in 
the Gentleman's Magazine, he did " after 
many years' regular attendance, for no 
real cause." It is submitted, however, 
that the cause, though unknown to others 
may have been every way sufficing and 
praiseworthy. He who has commenced 
practice that has grown into a destroyei 
ofhis time and desires to end it, must 
snap it in an instant. If he strive to abate 
it by degrees, he will find himself relax- 
ing by degrees. 

" Delusions strong as hell will bind 
him fast," unless he achieve, not the de- 
termination to destroy, but the act of de- 
struction. The will and the power are 
two. Steevens knew this, and though he 
had taken snuff all his life, he never took 
one pinch after he lost his box in St. 
Paul's church-yard. Had he taken one 
he might have taken one more, and then 
only another, and afterwards only a little 
bit in a paper, and then, he would have 
died as he lived — a snuff-taker. No ; 
Steevens appears to have discovered the 
grand secret, thac a man's self is the 
great enemy of himself, and hence his in- 
tolerance of self - indulgence even in 

His literary collections were remark- 
ably curious, and as regards the days that 
are gone, of great value. 


St. Vincent. 
Early Witlow grass. Draha vcrrux. 



Sanuarp 23. 

HILARY TERM begins. 

St. Raymund of Pennafort, a. d 1275. 
St. John the Almoner, a, d. 619. St. 
Emerentia, a. d. 304. <S^ Clement of 
Ancyia. St. Agathangelus. St. Ilde- 
fousus, A. u. 0(37. St. LuscuiuSf 

Tliis being the first day ol torm, the 
judges of the different courts at Westmin- 
ter, take their seats in Westminster-hall 
to commence business. 

The engraving represents the inte- 
lior of the hall at the time when the 
print from whence it is taken was en- 
graved by C. Mosley. The drawing was by 
(Jravelot, who died in 1773. 



The shops within the hall are remark- 
ably curioui from their situation, and in- 
deed the courts themselves are no less 
worthy of observation. It will be recol- 
ected that the court of Chancery and the 
court of King's Bench, at the upper end 
were, until the coronation, enclosed from 
sight and hearing ; in the print they are 
open. This is the print alluded to in the 
volume on " Ancient Mysteries," p. 266, 
wherein is cited Ned Ward's remarks re- 
specting the sempstresses, by whom some 
of these shops were occupied. 

It is of ancient custom on the first day 
of term for the judges to breakfast with 
the lord chancellor in Lincoln's-inn-hall, 
and proceed with him in their respective 
carriages to Westminster-hall. Being ar- 
rived at the hall door in Palace-yard, and 
having alighted with their officers and 
train bearers, they formed a procession 
along the hall until they came opposite to 
the court of Common Pleas, before which 
stood the Serjeants at law, who had pre- 
viously arranged themselves in their full 
dress wigs and gowns, and awaited the 
coming of the judges, who were also in 
their full dress. Tlien the Serjeants all 
bowed, and their obeisance being acknow- 
ledged by the judges in like manner, the 
lord chancellor, being first, approached 
the fiist Serjeant in the rank, and shook 
bands with him, saying, " How d'ye do, 
brother? I wish you a good term ;" where- 
upon the Serjeant bowed and thanked his 
lordship, and the chancellor bowing to 
him, the serjeant again bowed ; and the 
chancellor saluted and shook hands with 
the next serjeant in like manner, and so 
he did with each serjeant present, and 
then proceeded with his officers to his 
court. The lord chief justice of England 
and each of the puisne judges of the court 
of King's Bench, saluting and shaking 
hands with each serjeant in the same man- 
ner, followed the chancellor and went into 
their court. In the same manner also did the 
chief justice and puisne judges of the 
court of Common Pleas, and entered their 
court at the back of the serjeants. Lastly, 
the lord chief baron and the puisne barons 
of the Exchequer, having also so saluted 
the Serjeants, returned back and entered the 
court of Exchequer, which is at the right 
hand immediately on entering the hall; 
the entrance to the court of Common 
Pleas being about midway on the same 
side of the hall, whither, on the barons 
having retired, the serjeants withdrew to 
commence busines.? before the judges. 

The site of the court of Chancery is on 
the same side up the steps at the end of tiie 
hall, and that of the court of King's Bench 
level with it on the left-hand side. It 
is to be noted, that one judge does not 
salute the serjeants before the rest of the 
judges begin to salute them, but each fol- 
lows the other. Thus whilst the chancel- 
lor is saluting the second serjeant the lord 
chief justice salutes the first, and he sa- 
lutes the second while the chancellor sa- 
lutes the third, the next judge of the King's 
Bench court saluting the first serjeant; 
and so the judges proceed successively, 
and close to each other, till all the ser- 
jeants have been saluted. It is further 
observable, that more extended greetings 
sometimes pass between the judges and 
serjeants who are intimate. 

In 1825, the 23d of January, whereon 
Hilary term commences, happening on 
a Sunday, which is a dies non, or no day 
in law. the courts were opened on the 
24th, when the judges refreshed them- 
selves in Lincoln's-inn-hall with the lord 
chancellor, as usual, and departed at 
half-past twelve o'clock. On retiring, 
sir Charles Abbot, as lord chief justice, 
took precedence of lord Gifford, the 
master of the rolls, though he ranks as a 
baron of the realm, and is deputy speaker 
of the house of lords. The court of 
Chancery inWestminstc-hall being under 
reparation, the chancellor remained m 
Lincoln's-inn to keep his term there. 
For the same reason, the serjeants did 
not range themselves in the hall at West- 
minster, but awaited the arrival of the 
judges of the Common Pleas in their ova 
court; the carriages of the judges of th.« 
King's Bench turned to the right at the 
top of Parliament-street, and proceeded 
to the new Sessions' house, where the 
judges sit until the new court of King's 
Bench in Westminster-hall shall be pre- 

It is further to be remarked, that the 
Side Bar in Westminster-hall stood, till 
very lately, within a short space of the 
wall, and at a few feet on the Palace-yard 
side of the court of Common Pleas' steps. 
Formerly, attorneys stood within this bar 
every morning during term, and moved 
the judges for the common rules, called 
side-bar rules, as they passed to theii 
courts, and by whom they were granted 
them as of course. These motions have 
been long discontinued ; the rules are 
applied for and obtained at the rule-office 
a« rules of course ; but each rule still ex 



presses that it has been granted upon a 
" side-bar" motion 

To recur to the engravms;, which exhi- 
bits Westminster-hall at no distant period, 
in a state very dissimilar to its more late 
appearance. The original print by Mosley 
bears the following versified inscription : 

When fools fall out, for ev'ry flaw. 
They run horn mad to go to law, 
A hedge awry, a wrong plac'd gate. 
Will serve to spend a whole estate. 
Your case the lawyer says is good, 
And justice cannot be withstood ; 
By tedious process from above 
From office they to office move ; 
Thro' pleas, demurrers, the dev'l an 1 all, 
At length they bring it to the hall; 
The dreadful hall by Rufus rais'd. 
For lofty Gothick arches prais'd. 

The First of Term, the fatal day^ 
Doth various images convey ; 
First from the courts with clam'rous bawl 
The criers their attorneys call ; 
One of the gown, discreet and wise. 
By proper means his witness tries ; 
From Wreathock's gang — not right or laws 
H'assures his trembling client's cause ; 
This gnaws his handkerchief, whilst that 
Gives the kind ogling nymph his hat ; 
Here one in love with choiristers 
JVIinds singing more than law affairs. 
A Serjeant limping on beiiind 
Shews justice lame, as uell as blind. 
To gain new clients some dispute, 
Others protract an ancient suit. 
Jargon and noise alone prevail. 
While sense and reason's sure to fail ; 
4t Babel thus law terms began. 
And now at Westm er go on. 

The advocate, whose subornation of 
perjury is hinted at, is in the foremost 
group ; he is offering money to one of 
■' Wreathock's gang." This Wreathock 
^ was a villainous attorney, who re- 
ceived sentence of death for his criminal 
practices, and was ordered to be trans- 
ported for life in 1 736. It is a notorious 
fact, that many years ago wretches sold 
themselves to give any evidence, upon 
oath, that might be required ; and some 
of these openly walked Westminster-hall 
with a straw in the shoe to signify that 
they wanted employment as witnesses ; 
such was one of the customs of the " good 
old times," which some of us regret we 
were not born in. The " choirister " in 
a surplice, bearing a torch, was probably 
one ofthe choir belonging to Westminster- 
abbey. To his right hand is the " limp- 
ing Serjeant " with a stick ; liis serjeantship 
being denoted by the coif, or cap, he 

wears ; the coif is now diminished into a 
small circular piece of black silk at the 
top ofthe wig, instead of the cap repre- 
sented in the engraving. The first shop, 
on the left, is occupied by a bookseller ; 
the next by a mathematical instrument 
maker; then there is another bookseller; 
beyond him a dealer in articles of female 
consumption; beyond her a bookseller 
again; and, last on that side, a second 
female shopkeeper. Opposite to her, 
on the right of the hall, stands a 
clock, with the hands signifying it to be 
about one in the afternoon ; the first shop, 
next from the clock, is a bookseller's ; 
then comes a female, who is a map and 
printseller ; and, lastly, the girl who re- 
ceives the barrister's hat into her care, 
and whose line appears to sustain the 
" turnovers " worn by the beaus of those 
days with ••' rufiies," which, according to 
Ned Ward, the sempstresses of Westmin- 
ster-hall nicely " pleated," to the satis- 
faction of the " young students " learned 
in the law. 

Enough has, probably, been said of the 
engraving, to obtain legard to it as an 
object worth notice. 

The first day of term is occupied, in 
the common law courts, by the exami- 
nation of bail for persons who have been 
arre.sted, and whose opponents will not 
consent to the bail justifying before a 
judge at his chambers. A versified ex- 
emplification of this proceeding in the 
court of King's Bench, was written when 
lord Mansfield was chief, and Mr. VVilles 
a justice of the court ; a person named 
Hewitt was then cryer, Mr. Mingay, a 
celebrated counsel, still remembered, is 
represented as opposing the bail proposed 
by Mr. Baldwin, another counsel : 
king's-bench practice, chjp. 10. 
op justifying bail. 

Baldwin. Hewitt, call Taylor s biil, — for 1 
Shall now proceed to justify. 

Heu'itt. Where's Taylor's bail ? 

\st Bail. 1 can't get in. 

Hewitt. Make way. 

Lord Mansfield, For heaven's sake 


Hewitt. But where's the other ? 

2d Bail. Here 1 


Mingay. I must except to both. — Com- 
Silence, — and if your lordship crave it, 
Austen shall read our affidavit. 

Austen. Will. Priddle, late of Fleet-street, 
Makes oath and saith, that late he went 



Tu Duke's-pioce, as he was directed 
By notice, and he there expected 
Vo find both bail — but none could tell 
Where the first bail lived — 

Miiigay. • Very well. 

Austin. And this deponent further says, 
Tliat, asking- who the second was, 
He found he'd bankrupt been, and yet 
Had ne'er obtained certificate. 
When to his house deponent went. 
He full four stories high was sent, 
And found a lodging almost bare ; 
No furniture, but half a chair, 
A table, bedstead, broken fiddle 
And a bu'-eau. 

(Signed) William Priddle, 
Swoin at my chambers. 

Francis Biiller. 
Hfitiffay. No affidavit can be fuller. 
Well, fiend, you've heard this affidavit. 
What do you say ? 

2d Bail. Sir, by your leave, it 

Is all a lie. 

Mingay. Sir, have a care, 
What is your trade 1 

2d Bail. A scavenger. 

Alingay. And, pray, sir, were you never 
I ankrupt 1 

2d Bail. I'm worth a thousand pound. 
Minguy. A thousand pound, friend, boldly 
said — 
In what consisting ? 

2rf Bail. Stock in trade. 

Mingay. And, pray, friend, tell me, — do 
you know 
What sum you're bail for } 

'2d Bail. Truly no. 

Mingny. My lords, you hear, — no oaths 
have check'd him : 
I hope your lordships will — 

IVilles. Reject him, 

Mingay. Well, friend, now tell me where 

ynu dwell. 
\st Bail. Sir, 1 have liv'd in Clerkenwell 
These ten years. 

Mingay. Half-a-gnineadead. {Aside.) 

]My lords, if you've the notice read. 
It says Dtike's-place. So I desire 
A little further time t' inquire. 

Baldwin. Why, Mr. Mingay, all this va- 
pour ? 
Willes. Take till to morrow. 

lAird Mansfitld. Call the paper. 

The preceding pleasantry came from 
the pen of the late John Baynes, Esq. a 
Yorkshire gentleman, who was born in 
April, 1758, educated for the law at 
Trinity college, Cambridge, obtained 
prizes for proficiency in philosophy and 
claiisical attainments, was admitted of 
Gray's-inn, practised in his profession, 
and would probably have risen to its 
first honours. Mr. Nichols says " his 

learning was extensive ; his abihties great 
his application imwearied ; his integrity 
animpeached. In religious principles he 
was an Unitarian Christian and Protest- 
ant; in political principles the friend of the 
civil liberties of mankind, and the genuine 
constitution of his country. He died 
August 4, 1787, and was buried on the 
9ih in Bunhill-fields' burying-ground, neat 
to the grave of Dr. Jebb," his tutor at 
college: "the classical hand of Dr. Parr" 
commemorated him by an epitaph. 

One of the best papers in Mr. Knight's 
late "Quarterly Magazine," of good arti- 
cles, is so suitable to this day, legally 
considered, that any one sufficiently in- 
terested to sympathize with " the cares 
and the fears" of a young lawyer, or, 
indeed, any one who dares to admit that 
a lawyer may have bowels, as well as an 
appetite, will sufi'er the Confessions of a 
Barrister to be recorded here. 


" A lawyer," says an old comedy 
which r once read at the British Museum, 
" is an odd sort of fruit — first rotten — 
then green — and then ripe." There is 
too much of truth in the homely figure. 
The first years of a young barrister are 
spent, or rather worn out, in anxious 
leisure. His talents rust, his temper is 
injured, his little patrimony wastes away, 
and not an attorney shows a sign of re- 
morse. He endures term after term, and 
circuit after circuit, that greatest of all 
evils — a rank above his means of support- 
ing it. He drives round the country in 
a post-chaise, and marvels what Johnson 
found so exhilarating in its motion — that 
is, if he paid for it himself. He eats 
venison, and drinks claret ; but he loses 
the flavour of both when he reflects that 
his wife (for the fool is married, and 
married for love too !) has perhaps just 
dined for the third time on a cold neck 
of mutton, and has not tasted wine since 
their last party — an occurrence beyond 
even legal mem.ory. He leaves the fes- 
tive board early, and takes a solitary 
walk — returns to his lodu'ings in the twi- 
light, and sees on his table a large white 
rectangular body, which for a moment he 
supposes may be a brief — alas ! it is only 
a napkin. lie is vex^d, and rings to 
have It removed, when up comes his 
clerk, who is drunk and insolent: he is 
about to kick him down stairs, but stay.s 
his foot on recollecting the arrears of the 



fellow's WHges ; and contents himself with 
w ndering where the fellow finds the 
means of such extravagance. — Then in 
court many are the vexations of the brief- 
less. — The attorney is a cruel person to 
them — as cruel as a rich coxcomb in a 
ball-room, who delights in exciting hopes 
only to disappoint them. Indeed I have 
often thought the communications be- 
tween the solicitors and the bar have no 
slight resemblance to the flirtation be- 
tween the sexes. Barristers, like ladies, 
must wait to be chosen. The slightest 
overture would be equally fatal to one 
gown as the other. The gentlemen of 
the bar sit round the table in dignified 
composure, thinking just as little of briefs 
as a young lady of marriage. An at- 
torney enters — not an eye moves ; but 
somehow or other, the fact is known to 
all. Calmly he draws from his pocket a 
brief: practice enables us to see at a 
glance that the tormentor has left a blank 
for the name of his counsel. He looks 
around the circle as if to choose his man; 
you cannot doubt but his eye rests on 
you ; he writes a name, but you are too 
far off' to read it, though you know every 
name on your circuit upside down. Now 
he counts out the fee, and wraps it up 
with slow and provoking formality. At 
length all being prepared, he looks to- 
wards you to catch (as you suppose) your 
eye. You nod, and the brief comes fly- 
ing; you pick it up, and find on it the 
name of a man three years your junior, 
who is sitting next you : you curse the 
attorney's impudence, and ask yourself 
if he meant to insult you. — " Perhaps 
not," you say, " for the dog squints." — 
I received my maiden brief in London. 
How well do I recollect the minutest 
circumstances connected with that case ! 
The rap at the door ! I am a connoisseur 
in raps — there is not a dun in London 
who could deceive me : I know their 
tricks but too well ; they have no medium 
between the rap servile, and the rap im- 
pndent. This was a cheerful touch ; you 
felt that the operator knew he should meet 
with a face of welcome. My clerk, who 
is not much under the influence of sweet 
sounds, seemed absolutely inspired, and an- 
swered the knock with astonishing velocity. 
I could hear from my inner room the 
murmur of inquiry and answer; and 
though I could not distinguish a word; 
the tones confirmed my hopes ; — I was 
not long suffered to doubt — my client en- 
tared, anil the roll of pure white papei 

tied round with the brilliant red tape, 
met my eye. He inquired respectfully, 
and with an appearance of anxiety, which 
marked him to my mind for a perfect 
Chesterfield, if I was already retained in 

V. ? The rogue knew well enough 

that I had never had a retainer in my life. 
1 took a moment to consider ; after making 
him repeat the name of his case, I gravely 
assured him I was at perfect liberty to 
receive his brief. He then laid the papers 
and my fee upon the table ; asked me if 
the time appointed for a consultation 
w ith the two gentlemen who were " with 
me" would be convenient; and finding 
that the state of my engagements would 
allow me to attend, made his bow and 
departed. That fee was sacred, and I 
put it to no vulgar use. Many years have 
now elapsed since that case was disposed 
of, and yet how fresh does it live in my 
memory! how perfectly do I recollect 
every authority to which he referred ! how 
I read and re-read the leading cases that 
bore upon the question to be argued! One 
case I so betlnanbed that the volume has 
opened at it ever since, as inevitably as 
the prayer-bock of a lady's maid proffers 
the service of matrimony. My brief re- 
lated to an argument before the judges of 
the King's Bench, and the place of con- 
sultation wasAyles's coff'ee-house, adjoin- 
ing Westminster-hall. There was I be- 
fore the clock had finished striking the 
hour; my brief I knew by heart. I had 
raised an army of objections to the points 
for which we were to contend, and had 
logically slain every one of them. I went 
prepared to discuss the question thorough- 
ly; and I generously determined to give 
my leaders the benefit of my cogitations — 
though not without a slight struggle at 
the thought of how much reputation I 
should lose by my magnanimity. I had 
plenty of time to think of these things, for 
my leaders were engaged in court, and 
the attorney and I had the room to our- 
selves. After we had been waiting about 
an hour, the door flew open, and in strode 
one of my leaders, the second in com- 
mand, less in haste (as it appeared to me) 
to meet his appointment, than to escape 
from the atmosphere of clients in which 
he had been just enveloped, during his 
passage from the court. — Having shaken 

oflfhis tormentors, ]Mr. walked up to 

the fire — said it was cold — nodded kindly 
to me — and had just asked what had been 
the last night's division in the hous — 
when the powdered head of an usher was 

Vol. I. 




proln.ded through the half open door to 
announce that " Jones and Williams was 
called on." Down went the poker, and 

away flew with streaming robes, 

leaving me to meditate on the loss which 
the case would sustain for want of his 
assistance at the expected discussion. 
Having waited some further space, I 
heard a rustling of silks, and the great 

, our commander in chief, sailed into 

the room. As he did not run foul of me, I 
think it possible I may not have been 
invisible to him; but he furnished me 
with no other evidence of the fact. He 
simply directed the attorney to provide cer- 
tain additional affidavits, tacked about and 
sailed away. And thus ended the first 
consultation. I consoled myself with the 
thought that I had all my materials for 
myself, and that from having had so much 
more time for considering the subject than 
the others, I must infallibly make the best 
speech of the three. At length the fatal 
day came. I never shall forget the thrill 

with which I heard open the case, 

and felt how soon it would be my turn to 
speak. O, how I did pray for a long 
speech ! I lost all feeling of rivalry ; and 
would gladly have given him every thing 
that I intended to use myself, only to 
defer the dreaded moment for one half- 
hour. His speech was frightfully short, 
yet, short as it was, it made sad havoc 
with my stock of matter. The next 
speaker's was even more concise, and yet 
my little stock suffered again severely. 
I then found how experience will stand 
in the place of study. These men could 
not, from the multiplicity of their engage- 
ments, have spent a tithe of the time upon 
the case which I had done : and yet they 
had seen much which had escaped my 
research. At length my turn came. I 
was sitting among the back rows in the 
old court of King's Bench. It was on the 
first day of Michaelmas term, and late in 
the evening. A sort of "darkness visible'' 
had been produced by the aid of a few 
candles dispersed here and there. I arose, 
but I was not peiceived by the judges, 
who had turned together to consult, sup- 
posing the argument finished. B 

was the first to see me, and I received from 
him a nod of kindness and encourage- 
ment which I hope I shall never forget. 
The court was crowded, for it was a 
question of some interest ; it was a 
dreadful moment — the ushers stilled the 
audience into awful silence. I began, 
and at the sound of an unkiiown voice. 

every wig of the v/hite inclined plane, at 
the upper end of which I was standing 
turned round ; and in an instant I had 
the eyes of seventy " learned friends " 
looking me full in the face ! It is hardly 
to be conceived by those who have not 
gone through the ordeal; how terrific is 
this mute attention to the object of it. 
How grateful should I have been for any 
thing which would have relieved me from 
its oppressive weight — a buzz, a scraping 
of the shoes, or a fit of coughing, would 
have put me under infinite obligations to 
the kind disturber. What I said I linow 
not; I knew not then; it is the only 
part of the transaction of which I am 
ignorant ; it was " a phantasma, or 
hideous dream." They told me, however, 
to my great surprise, that I spoke in a 
loud voice ; used violent gesture, and as 
I went along seemed to shake off my trepi- 
dation. Whether I made a long speech oi 
a short one I cannot tell ; for I had no 
power of measuring time. All I know 
is, that I should have made a much longer 
one, had I not felt my ideas, like Bob 
Acre's courage, oozing out of my fingers' 
ends. The court decided against us, 
erroneously as I of course thought, for 
the young advocate is always on the right 
side. The next morning I got up early 
to look at the newspapers, which I ex- 
pected to see full of our case. In an 
obscure corner,and in a small type, I found 
a few words given as the speeches of my 

leaders: and I also read that "Mr. . 

followed on the same side '' 


It is affirmed of sir William Black- 
stone, that so often as he sat down to the 
composition of his Commentaries on the 
Laws of England, he always ordered a 
bottle of wine wherewith to moisten the 
dryness of his studies ; and in proof that 
other professional men sometimes solace 
their cares by otherwise disporting them- 
selves, there is a kind of catch, the words 
of which, having leference to their art or 
mystery, do so marvellously inspire them, 
that they chant it with more glee than 
gravity, to a right merry tune : — 

A woman having settlement, 
Married a man with none ; 

The question was, he being dead 
If that she had was gone i 



Quoth sir John Pratt, her settlement 

Suspended did remain, 
Living the husband — but, him dead. 

It doth revive again, 


Living the husband — but, him dead, 
It doth revive again. 


Peziza. Peziza acetabulum. 

SamiaiT) 24. 

St. Timothy, disciple of St. Paul. St. 
Baby las, a. d. 250. St. Suranus, 7 th cen- 
tury. St. Macedonius. St. Cadoc, of 

Wales. ■ 


1721. On the 24th of January in this 
year, the two houses of parliament or- 
dered several of the directors of the South 
Sea company into the custody of the 
usher of the black rod and serjeant at 
arms : this was in consequence of a par- 
liamentary inquiry into the company's 
affairs, which had been so managed as 
to involve persons of all ranks through- 
out the kingdom in a scene of distress 
unparalleled by any similar circumstance 
in English annals. 


In 1711, the ninth year of queen Anne's 
reign, a charter of incorporation was 
granted to a company trading to the 
South Seas ; and the South Sea com- 
pany's affairs appeared so prosperous, 
that, in 1718, king George I. being chosen 
governor, and a bill enabling him to ac- 
cept the office having passed ooth houses, 
on the 3d of February, his majesty in 
person attended the house of lords, and 
gave tlie royal assent to the act, A brief 
history of the company's subsequent pro- 
gress is interesting at any time, and more 
especially at a period when excess of spe- 
culation may endanger private happiness, 
and disturb the public welfare. 

On the 27th of January, 1719, the 
South Sea company proposed a scheme 
to parliament for paying off the national 
debt, by taking into its funds al. the debt 
which the nation had incurred before the 
year 1716, whether redeemable or irre- 
deemable, amounting in the whole to the 
sum of 31,664,551/. Is. Ud. For this 
the company undertook to pay to the use 
of the public the sum of 4,156,306/. ; be- 
sides four ye-irs and a half's purchase for 

all the annuities that should be subscribed 
into its fund, and which, if all subscribed, 
would have amounted to the sum of 
3,567,503/. ; iraounting, with the above- 
mentioned sum, to 7,723,809/. : in case 
all the annuities were not subscribed, thf 
company agreed to pay one per cent, fo 
such unsubscribed annuities. 

To this arrangement parliament ac- 
ceded, and an act was passed to ratify 
this contract, and containing full powers to 
the company accordingly. In March fol- 
lowing South Sea slock rose from 130 to 
300, gradually advanced to 400, declined 
to 330, and on the 7th of j4pril was at 
340. This so encouraged the directors, 
that on the 12th they opened books at the 
South Sea house for taking in a subscrip- 
tion for a portion of their stock to the 
amount of 2,250,000/. every 100/. of 
which they ofi'ered at 300/. : it was im- 
mediately subscribed for at that price, to 
be paid for by nine instalments within 
twelve months. On the 21st, a genera) 
court of the company resolved, that the 
Midsummer dividend should be 10 per 
cent., and that the aforesaid subscription, 
and all other additions to their capital 
before that time, should be entitled to the 
said dividend. This gave so favourable 
a view to the speculation, that on the 
28th the directors opened a second sub- 
scription for another million of stock, 
which was presently taken at 400/. for 
every 100/., and the subscribers had three 
years allowed them for payment. On 
the 20th of May, South Sea stock rose to 
550. So amazing a price created a ge- 
neral infatuation. Even the more pru- 
dent, who had laughed at the folly and 
madness of others, were seized with the 
mania; they borrowed, mortgaged, and 
sold, to raise all the money they could, in 
order to hold the favourite stock ; while 
a few quietly sold out and enriched them- 
selves. Prodigious numbers of people 
resorted daily from all parts of the king- 
dom to 'Change-alley, where the assem- 
bled speculators, by their excessive noise 
and hurry, seemed like so many madmen 
just escaped from cells and chains. All 
thoughts of commerce were laid aside for 
the buying and selling of estates, and 
traffic in South Sea stock. Some, who 
had effected sales at high premiums, were 
willing to lay out the money on real pro- 
perty, which consequently advanced be- 
yond its actual value : cautious land- 
owners justly concluded that this was the 
time to get money without risk, and there- 



fore sold their prope.ty; shortly after- 
wards they had an oppoitunity of pur- 
chasing more, at less than half the price 
they liad obtained for their own. 

On the 2d of Jane, South Sea stock 
rose to 890. On the 15th, many persons 
-who accompanied the king on his foreign 
journey, sold their stock, which suddenly 
fell; but the directors promismg larger 
dividends, it got up higher than ever. On 
the 18th they opened books for a third 
subscription of four millions more stock, 
at 1000/. foi each 100/., and before the 
end of the month it had advanced to 
11 00/., between which and 1000/. it fluctu- 
ated throughout the month of July. On 
the 3d oi August they proposed to receive 
subscriptions for all the unsubscribed an- 
nuities, and opened books for the purpose 
during the ensuing week, upon terms 
which greatly dissatisfied the annuitants, 
who, confiding in the honour of the di- 
rectors, had left their orders at the South 
Sea House, without any previous con- 
tract, not doubting but they should be 
allowed the same terms with the first 
subscribers. Finding, to their great sur- 
prise and disappointment, that, by the 
directors' arrangements, they were only 
to have about half what they expected, 
many repaired to the South Sea House to 
get their orders returned ; but these being 
withheld, their incessant applications and 
reflections greatly aff'ected the stock, in'o- 
much that, on the 2'2d of the month, at 
the opening of the books, it fell to 820. 
The directors then came to the desperate 
resolution of ordering the books to be 
shut; and on the 24th they caused others 
to be opened for a fourth money sub- 
scription for another million of their 
stock, at 1000/. for each 100/., payable by 
five instalments within two years : this 
million was subscribed in less than three 
hours, and bore a premium the same 
afternoon of 40 per cent. On the 26th 
the stock, instead of advancing, fell below 
830. The directors then thought fit to 
lend their proprietors 4,000/. upon every 
1000/. stock, for six months, at 4 per 
cent. ; but the annuitants becoming very 
clamorous and uneasy, the directors re- 
solved that 30 per cent, in money should 
be the half-year's dividend due at the 
next Christmas, and that from thence, for 
twelve years, not less than 50 per cent, in 
money should be the yearly dividend on 
their stock. Though this resolution raised 
the stock to about 800 for the opening of 
the books, it soon sunk again. 

On the Q\ho^ September, the stock fdl to 
640, on the 9th to 5:''0, and by the 19th 
it came to 400. On the 23d the Bank of 
England agreed with the South Sea com- 
pany to circulate their bonds, &c. and to 
take their stock at 400 per cent., in lieu of 
3,775,000/., which the company was to 
pay them. When the books were opened 
at the Bank for taking in a subscription 
for supporting the public credit, the con- 
course was at first so great, that it was 
judged the whole subscription, which was 
intended for 3,000,000/., would have been 
filled that day. But the fall of South Sea 
stock, and the discredit of the company's 
bonds, occasioned a run upon the most 
eminent goldsmiths and bankers, some of 
whom, having lent great sums upon the 
stock and other public securities, were 
obliged to shut up their shops. The 
Sword-blade company also, who had 
been hitherto the chief cash-keepers of the 
South Sea company, being almost drawn 
of their ready money, were forced to stop 
payment. All this occasioned a great lun 
upon the Bank. On the 30th South Sea 
stock fell to 150, and then to 86. 

" It is very surprising," says Maitland, 
" that this wicked scheme, of French ex- 
traction, should have met with encourage- 
ment here, seeing that the Mississippi 
scheme had just before neai-ly ruined that 
nation. It is still more surprising, that 
the people of divers other countries, not- 
withstanding the direful effects of this 
destructive scheme before their eyes, yet, 
as it were, tainted with our frenzy, began 
to court their destr-uction, by setting on 
foot the like projects : which gives room 
to suspect," says Maitland, " that those 
destructive and fatal transactions were 
rather the result of an epidemical distem- 
per, than that of choice ; seeing that the 
wisest and best of men were the greatest 
sufferers; many of the nobility, and per- 
sons of the greatest distinction, were un- 
done, and obliged to walk on foot ; while 
others, who the year before could hardly 
pur-chase a dinner, were exalted in their 
coaches and fine equipages, and possessed 
of enormous estates. Such a scene of 
misery appeared among traders, that it 
was almost unfashionable not to be a 
bankrupt : and the dire catastrophe was 
attended with such a number of self-mur- 
ders, as no age can parallel." 

Hooke, the historian of Rome, was a 
severe sufferer by the South Sea bubble. 
He thus addresses loid Oxford, in a letter 



dated the 17th of October 1722 : " 1 can- 
not be said at present to be in any form 

life, but rather to live extempore. The 
late epidemical (South Sea) distemper 
seized me : I endeavoured to be rich, 
imagined for a while that I was, and am 

some measure happy to find myself at 
ihis instant but just worth nothing. If 
your lordship, or any of your numerous 
friends, have need of a servant, with the 
bare qualifications of being able to read 
and write, and to be honest, I shall gladly 
undertake any employments your lordship 
shall not think me unworthy of." 

In 1720, soon after the bursting of the 
South Sea bubble, a gentleman called late 
in the evening at the banking-house of 
Messrs. Hankey and Co. He was in a 
coach, but refused to get out, and desired 
that one of the partners of the house would 
come to him. Having ascertained that it 
was really one of the principals, and not 
a clerk, who appeared, he put into his 
hands a parcel, very carefully sealed up, 
and desired that it might be laid on one 
side till he should call again, which would 
be in the course of a few days. A few 
days passed away — a few weeks, a few 
months, but the stranger never returned. 
At the end of the second or third year, the 
partners agreed to open this mysterious 
parcel, in the presence of each other. They 
found it to contain 30,000/., with a letter, 
stating that it was obtained by the South 
Sea speculation, and directing that it 
should be vested in the hands of three 
trustees, whose names were mentioned, 
ftnd the interest appropriated to the relief 
of the poor, which was accordingly done. 

It has been calculated, tliat the rise on the 
original South-sea stock often millions, and 
the subsequent advance of the company's 
four subscriptions, inflated their capital 
10 nearly three hundred millions. This 
unnatural procedure raised bank stock 
from 100/. to 260/. India, from 100/. to 
405/. African, from 100/. to 200/. York- 
buildings' shares, from 10/. to 305/. Lus- 
tring, from 5/. 2s. 6d. to 105/. English 
copper, from 5/. to 105/. Welch copper, 
from 41. 2s. 6d. to 95/. Tlie Royal Ex- 
change Assurance, from 51. 5s. to 250/. 
The London Assurance, from 5/. to 175/., 
to the great injury of the various pur- 
chasers at such prices. 

The South Sea scheme terminated in 
the sudden downfai of the directors, 
whose estates were confii;cated by parlia- 

ment, and the proceeds applied to the re- 
lief of many tiiousands of families, who 
had been wholly ruined by the specula- 
tion. These dupes of overweening folly 
and misplaced confidence, were further 
benefited by a remission in their favour 
of the national claims on certain of the 
South Sea company's real assets. The ex- 
tent of these donations to the suff'erers 
amounted to 40/. per cent, upon the stock 
standing in their names. 


One consequence of the prosperous ap- 
pearance that the South Sea scheme bore, 
till within a short period before its failure, 
was a variety of equally promising and 
delusive projects. These were denomi- 
nated bubbles. Alarmed at the destructive 
issue of the master-bubble, government 
issued the following manifesto : " The 
lords justices in council, taking into con- 
sideration the many inconveniences arising 
to the public, from several projects set on 
foot for raising of joint-stocks for various 
purposes ; and that a great many of his 
majesty's subjects have been drawn in to 
part with their money, on pretence of 
assurances that their petitions, for patents 
and charters to enable them to carry on 
the same, would be granted : to prevent 
such impositions, their excellencies or- 
dered the said several petitions, togellier 
with such reports from the Board of 
Trade, and from his majesty's attorney 
and solicitor general, as had been obtained 
thereon, to be laid before them ; and, 
after mature consideration thereof, were 
pleased, by advice of his majesty's privy- 
council, to order that the said petitions be 
dismissed." The applications thus re- 
jected prayed patents for various fisheries, 
for building ships to let or freight, for 
raising hemp, flax, and madder, for mak- 
ing of sail-cloth, for fire-assurances, for 
salt- works, for the making of snuff in 
Virginia, &c. 

In defiance of this salutary order, the 
herd of projectors, with an audacity that 
passed on the credulous for well-ground- 
ed confidence, continued their nefarious 
traffic. Proclamations from the king, 
and even acts of parliament, were utterly 
disregarded ; and companies which had 
been established by charter increased the 
evil, by imitating the South Sea company's 
fatal management, and taking in subscrip- 
tions. Tills occasioned the lords justices 
to is.sue another order, wherein they de- 
clared that, having been attended by Mr. 


attorney-general, they gave him express 
orders to bring writs of scire facias against 
the charters or patents of the York-build- 
ing's company. Lustring company, Eng- 
lish copper, Welsh copper, and lead, and 
also aaiainst other charters or patents 
which had been, or should be made use of, 
or acted under, contrary to the intent or 
meaning of an act passed the last ses- 
sion of parliament, &c. 

They likewise instructed the attorney- 
general to prosecute, with the utmost 
severity, all persons opening books for 
public subscriptions ; or receiving money 
upon such subscriptions ; or making or 
accepting transfers of, or shares upon, 
such subscriptions ; of which they gave 
public notice in the Gazette, as "a farther 
caution to prevent the drawing of unwary 
oersons, for the future, into practices con- 
trary to law." This effectually frustrated 
the plans of plunder, exercised or con- 
templated at that period. How necessary 
so vigorous a resistance was must be ob- 
vious from this fact, that innumerable 
bubbles perished in embyro; besides an in- 
credible number which could be named 
that were actually set in motion, and to 
support which the sums intended to be 
raised amounted to about 300,000,000/. 
Tl)e lowest advance of the shares in any of 
these speculations was above cent, per 
cent., most of them above 400/. per cent. ; 
and some were raised to twenty times the 
price of the subscription. Taking these 
circumstances into account, the scanda- 
lous projects would have required seven 
hundred millions sterling, if such a sum 
could have been realized in the shape of 
capital. To such a height of madness 
had the public mind been excited, that 
even shares were eagerly coveted, and 
bargained for, in shameless schemes which 
vv^ere not worth the paper whereon their 
proposals were printed, at treble the price 
they nominally bore. From a list of only 
a part of those that the air of 'Change- 
alley teemed with, the names of a few are 
here set forth : 


For supplying London with cattle. 
For supplying London with hay. 
For breeding and feeding cattle. 
For making pasteboards. 
For improving the paper manufacture 
For dealing in lace, hollands,&c. 
For a grand dispensary. 
For a royal fishery. 
For a fish pool. 

For making glass-bottles. 
For encouraging the breed of horses. 
For discovering gold mines. 
For an assurance againr.t thieves. 
For trading in hair. 
For loan offices. 
For dealing in hops. 
For making of china ware. 
For furnishing funerals. 
For a coral fishery. 
For a flying machine. 
For insuring of horses. 
For making of looking-glasses. 
For feeding of hogs. 
For buying and selling estates. 
For purchasing and letting lands. 
For supplying London with provisions 
For curing the gout and stone. 
For making oil of poppies. 
For bleaching coarse sugar. 
For making of stockings. 
For an air-pump for the brain. 
For insurance against divorces. 
For making butter from beech-trees. 
For paving London streets. 
For extracting silver from lead. 
For making of radish oil. 
For a perpetual motion. 
For japanning of shoes. 
For making deal boards of sawdust. 
For a scheme to teach the casting of na- 

Joint Stock Companies of 1825. 

Tlie large quantity of surplus capital 
and consequent low rate of interes' 
during the last, and in the present, yeai, 
induce its possessors to embark their 
money in schemes for promoting general 
utility. One of the advantages resulting 
from a state of peace is the influx ot 
wealth that pours forth upon the country 
for its improvement. Yet it behoves the 
prudent, and those of small means, to be 
circumspect in their outlays; to see with 
their own eyes, and not through the me- 
dium of others. The premiums that 
shares in projects may bear m the mar- 
ket, are not even a shadow of criterion 
whereon to found a judgment for invest- 
ment. This is well known to every discreet 
man who has an odd hundred to put out ; 
and he 'who cannot rely on his own dis- 
crimination for a right selection from among 
the various schemes that are proffered to 
his choice, will do well to act as if none 
of them existed, and place his cash where 
the principal will at least be safe, and the 



interest, though small, be certain. This 
month presents schemes for 
Twenty Rail Road Companies, 
Twenty-two Bankincr, Loan, Investment, 

and Assurance Companies, 
Eleven Gas Comp"! lies, 
Eight British and Irish Mine Companies, 
Seventeen Foreign Mine Companies, 
Nine Shipping and Dock Companies, 

Twenty-seven Miscellaneous Companies, 

A London Brick Company, 
A Patent Brick Company, 
A London Marine Bath Company, 
A Royal National Bath Company, 
A Great Westminster Milk Company, 

A Metropolitan Water Company. 
An Alderney Dairy Company, 
A Metropolitan Alderney Dairy Com- 
A South London Milk Company, 
An East London Milk Company, 
A Metropolitan Milk Company. 

A correspondent in the " London Maga- 
zine '' declares, that " if we named the se- 
veral divisions ofthe year after the French 
revolutionary fashion, by the phenomena 
observable in them, we should, from our 
experience of January, 1825, call it 
Bubblose — it has been a month of most 
flagitious and flourishing knavety." He 
pleasantly assumes that Mr. Jeremiah 
Hop-the-twig, attorney at law, benevo- 
lently conceives the idea of directmg 
' suiplus capital " to the formation of " a 
joint stock company for the outfit of 
air-balloons, the purchase of herds of 
swine, and the other requisites for a flou- 
rishing lunar commerce ; Capital One 
Million, divided into 10,000 shares of 
100/. each." The method is then related 
of opening an account with a respectable 
banking-house, obtaining respectable di- 
rectors, appointing his son-in-law the re- 
spectable secretary, the son of a respected 
director the respectable standing counsel, 
and the self-nomination of the respectable 
Mr. Jeremiah H. and Co. as the respect- 
able solicitors. Afterwards come the 
means of raising the bubble, to the admi- 
ration of proper persons who pay a de- 
posit of 51. per share ; who, when the 
shares " look down," try to sell, but there 
are " no buyers," the " quotations are 
nommal;" a second instalment called 
for, the holders hesitate ; " their shares 
aiP forfeited;" the speculation is conse- 

quently declared frustrated; and there 
being only £10,000 in the bankers' hands 
to pay " Mr. Hop-the-twig's bill ot 
10,073/. 13*. 4rf. that respectable soli- 
citor is defrauded ofthe sum of 73/. 1 "is Ad. 
This is the rise and fall of a respectable 

Undoubtedly, among these various 
schemes afloat, some will be productive 
of great benefit to the country ; but it is 
seriously to be considered whether the 
estimation of some of them in a money 
view be not too high, and forced to an 
undue price by the arts of jobbmg : 

Haste instantly and buy, cries one 
Re^l Del Monte shares, for none 

Will hold a richer profit ; 
Another cries — No mining plan 
Like ours — the Anglo-Mexican • 

As for Del Monte, scoff it. 

This grasps my button, and declares 
There's nothing like Columbian shares. 

The capital a million ; — 
That, cries La Plata's sure to pay ; 
Or bids me buy wi'ihout delay 

Hibernian or Brazilian. 

'Scaped from the torments of the mine 
Rivals in Gas, an endless line, 

Arrest me as I travel ; 
Each sure my suffrage to receive, 
If I will only give him leave. 

His project to unravel. 

By Fire and Life insurers next 
I'm intercepted, pester'd, vex'd, 

Almost beyond endurance ; 
And though the schemes appear unsound, 
Their advocates are seldom found 

Deficient in assurance. 
Last I am worried, shares to buy 
In the Canadian company. 

The Milk Association, 
The Laundry-men who wash by steam, 
Rail-ways, Pearl fishing, or the scheme, 

For Inland Navigation. 

New Monthly Mag. 


jtalkless moss. Phascum mtUicnm' 

Samiarp 25. 

Holiday at the Public Officeo ; except the Cxciai., 
Stamps, and Cuetoms. 

Conversion of St. Paul. Sts. Juren- 
tinns and Maxim'imis, a. d. 363. St. 
Projectus, a. d. 674. St. Poppo, a. d 
1048. St. Apollo, A. i>. 393. St 
Publius, A. D. 369. 



The Conversion nf St. Paul. 
Ttns is a festival in the calendar of the 
chinch of England, as well as in that of 
the Romish church. 

On this day prognostications of the 
months were drawn for the whole year. 
If fair and clear, there was to be plenty; 
if cloudy or misty, much cattle would die; 
if rain or snow fell then it presaged a 
dearth; and if winJy, there would be 
wars : 

If Saint Paul's Day be fair and clear. 
It does betide a happy year ; 
But if it chance to snow or rain, 
Then will be dear all kinds of grain : 
If clouds or mists do dark the skie, 
Great store of birds and beasts sliall die ; 
And if the winds do fly aloft, 
ihen wars shall vex the kingdome oft. 

yVilhforcVs Nature's Secrets. 

These prognostications are Englished 
from an ancient calendar: they have 
likewise been translated by Gay, who 

Let no such vulgar tales debase thy mind, 
Nor Paul nor Swithin rule the clouds and 

The latter lines are allusive to the 
popular supersthions, regarding these 
days, which were before remarked by 
bishop Hall, who observes of a person 
vmder such influences, that " St. Paule's 
day, and St. Swithine's, with the twelve, 
are his oracles, which he dares believe 
against the almanacke." It will be re- 
collected that " the twelve " are twelve 
days of Christmastide, mentioned on a 
preceding day as believed by the ignorant 
to denote the weather throughout the 

Concerning this day,Bourne says. " How 
it came to have this particular knack of 
foretelling the good or iU fortune of the 
following year is no easy matter to find 
out. The monks, who were undoubtedly 
the first who made this wonderful obser- 
vation, have taken care it should be hand- 
ed down to posterity ; but why, or for 
what reason, they have taken care to con- 
ceal. St. Paul did indeed labour more 
abundantly than all the apostles ; but 
never that I heard in the science of as- 
trology : and why this day should there- 
fore be a standing almanac to the world, 
rather than the day of any other saint, 

will be pretty hard to find out." In an 
ancient Romish calendar, much used by 
Brand, the vigil of St. Paul is called 
" Dies iEgyptiacus ;" and he confesses 
his ignorance of any reason for calling it , 
" an Egyptian-day." Mr. Fosbroke ex- 
plains, from a passage in Ducange, thai 
it was so called because there were tvo 
unlucky days in every month, and St. j 
Paul's vigil was one of the two in j 
January. j 

Dr. Forster notes, that the festival of 
the conversion of St. Paul has alwa}s 
been reckoned ominous of the future wea- 
ther of the year, in various countries re- 
mote from each other. 

According to Schenkius, cited by Brand, 
it was a custom in many parts of Ger- 
many, to drag the images of St. Paul and 
St. Urban to the river, if there was foul 
weather on their festival. 


St. Paul's day being the first festival of 
an apostle in the year, it is an opportunity 
for alluding to the old, ancient, English 
custom, with sponsors, or visitors at 
christenings, of presenting spoons, called 
apostle-spoons, because the figures of 
the twelve apostles were chased, or carved 
on the tops of the handles. Brand cites 
several authors to testify of the practice. 
Persons who could afford it gave the set 
of twelve; others a smaller number, and 
a poor person offered the gift of one, with 
the figure of the saint after whom the 
child was named, or to whom the child 
was dedicated, or who was the patron 
saint of the good-natured donor. 

Ben Jonson, in his Bartholomew Fair, 
has a character, saying, " And all this for 
the hope of a couple of apostle-spoons, 
and a cup to eat caudle in." In the 
Chaste Maid of Cheapside, by Middleton, 
" Gossip " inquires, " What has he given 
her ? What is it. Gossip ?" Whereto the 
answer of another " Gossip " is, " A faire 
high-standing cup, and two great 'postle- 
spoons — one of them gilt." Beaumont 
and Fletcher, likewise, in the Noble 
Gentleman, say : 

" I'll be a Gossip. Bewford, 
I have ari odd apostle-spoon." 

The rarity and antiquity of apostle- 
spoons render them of considerable value 
as curiosities. A complete set of twelve 
is represented in the sketch on the 
opposite page, from a set of the 
spoons themselves on the writer'.'* table 






The apostles on this set of spoons are 
somewliat worn, and the stems and 
bowls have been altered by the silver- 
smith in conformity with the prevailirg 
fashion of the present day ; to the eye ot 
the antiquary, therefore, they are not so 
interesting as they were before they un- 
derwent this partial modernization : yet 
in this state they are objects of regard. 
Their size in the print is exactly that of 
the spoons themselves, except that the 
stems are necessarily fore-shortened in 
the engraving to get them within the 
page. The stem of each spoon measures 
exactly three inches and a half in length 
from the foot of the apostle to the com- 
mencement of the bowl ; the length of 
each bowl is two inches and nine-six- 
teenths of an inch ; and the height of 
each apostle is one inch and one-six- 
teenth : the entire length of each spoon is 
seven inches and one-eighth of an inch. 
They are of silver; the lightest, which is 
St. Peter, weighs 1 oz. 5 dwts. 9 gr. ; the 
heaviest is St. Bartholomew, and weighs 
1 oz. 9 dwts. 4 gr. ; their collective weight 
is 16 oz. 14 dwts. 16gr. The hat, or flat 
covering, on the head pf each figure, is 
usual to apostles-spoons, and was pro- 
bably affixed to save the features from 
effacement. In a really fine state they 
are very rare. 

It seems from " the Gossips," a poem 
by Shipman, in 1666, that the usage of 
giving apostle-spoons' at christenings, 
was at that time on the decline : 
" Formerly, when they us'd to troul. 
Gilt bowls of sack, they gave the bowl ; 
Two spoons at least ; an use ill kept ; 
'Tis well if now our own be left." 
An anecdote is related of Shakspeare 
and Ben Jonson, which bears upon the 
usage: Shakspeare was godfather to one 
of Jonson's children, and, after the christ- 
ening, being in deep study, Jonson cheer- 
ingly asked him, why he was so melan- 
choly? " Ben," said he," I have been 
considering a great while what should be 
the fittest gift for me to bestow upon my 
godchild, and I have resolved it at last." 
" I prithee, what ?" said Ben, " Y faith, 
Ben," answered Shakspeare, " I'll give 
him a dozen good latten spoons, and thou 
shalt translate them." The word latten, 
intended as a play upon latin, is the name 
for thin iron tinned, of which spoons, and 
similar small articles of household use, are 
sometimes made. Without being aware 
of the origin, it is still a custom -with 
many persons, to present suoons at christ- 

enings, or on visiting the " lady in the 
straw ;" though they are not now adorned 
with imagery. 


Winter hellebore. Helleborus hijemalis. 

Bamiarp 26. 

St. Polycarp. St. Paula. St. Conan. 


On winter comes — the cruel north 
Pours his furious whirlwind forth 
Before him — and we breathe the breath' 
Of famish'd bears, that howl to death : 
Onward he comes from rocks that blanch 
O'er solid streams that never flow. 
His tears all ice, his locks all snow, 
Just crept from some huge avalanche. Incog 


M. M. M. a traveller in Russia, com- 
municates, through the Gentleman's Ma- 
gazine of 1785, a remarkable method of 
cultivating bees, and preserving them from 
their housebreakers, the bears. The Rus- 
sians of Borodskoe, on the banks of the 
river Ufa, deposit the hives within exca- 
vations that they form in the hardest, 
strongest, and loftiest trees of the forest, 
at about five-and-twenty or thirty feet 
high from the ground, and even higher, if 
the height of the trunk allows it. They 
hollow out the holes lengthways, with 
small narrow hatchets, and with chisels 
and gouges complete their work. The 
longitudinal aperture of the hive is stopped 
by a cover of two or more pieces exactly 
fitted to it, and pierced with small holes, 
to give ingress and egress to the bees. 
No means can be devised more ingenious 
or more convenient for climbing the high- 
est and the smoothest trees than those 
practised by this people, for the construc- 
tion and visitation of these hives. For 
this purpose they use nothing but a very 
sharp axe, a leathern strap, or a common 
rope. Tlie man places himself against 
the trunk of the tree, and passes the cord 
round his body and round the tree, just 
leaving it sufficient play for casting it 
higher and higher, by jerks, towards the 
elevation he desires to attain, and there to 
place his body, bent as in a swing, his 
feet resting against the tree, and preserv- 
ing the free use of his hands. This done, 
he takes his axe, and at about the height 
of his body makes the first notch or step 
in the tree ; then he takes his rope, the 
two ends whereof he takes care to have 
tied very fast, and throws it towards the 
top of the trunk. Placed thus in his rope 
by the middle of his body, and resting' 



his feet against the tree, he ascends by 
two steps, and easily enables himself to 
put one of his feet in the notch. He now 
makes a new step, and continues to mount 
in this manner till he has reached the 
intended height. He performs all this 
with incredible speed and agility. Being 
mounted to the place where he is to make 
the hive, he cuts more convenient steps, 
md, by the help of the rope, which his 
body keeps in distension, he performs his 

necessary work with the above-mentioned 
tools, which are stuck in his girdle. He 
also carefully cuts away all boughs and 
protuberances beneath the hive, to render 
access as difficult as possible to the bears, 
which abound in vast numbers through- 
out the forests, and in spite of all ima- 
ginable precautions, do considerable da- 
mage to the hives. On this account the 
natives put in practice every kind ol 
means, not only for defending themselves 




from these voracious animals, but for their 
destruction. The method most in use 
consists in sticking into the truniv of 
the tree old blades of knives, standing up- 
wards, scythes, and pieces of pointed iron, 
disposed circularly round it, when the 
tree is straight, or at the place of bending, 
when the trunk is crooked. The bear has 
commonly dexterity enough to avoid 
these points in climbing up the tree ; but 
when he descends, as he always does, 
backwards, he gets on these sharp hooks, 
and receives such deep wounds, that he 
usually dies. Old bears frequently take 
the precaution to bend down these blades 
with their fore-paws as they mount, and 
thereby render all this offensive armour 

.-Vnother destructive apparatus has some 
similitude to the catapulta of the ancients. 
It is hxed in such a manner that, at the 
instant the bear prepares to climb the 
tree, he pulls a string that lets go the ma- 
chine, whose elasticity strikes a dart into 
the animal's breast. A further mode is 
to suspend a platform by long ropes to 
the farthest extremity of a branch of the 
tree. The platform is disposed horizon- 
tally before the hive, and there tied fast 
to the trunk of the tree with a cord made 
of bark. The bear, who finds the seat 
very convenient for proceeding to the 
opening of the liive, begins by tearing 
the cord of bark which holds the plat- 
form to the trunk, and hinders him from 
executing his purpose. Upon this the 
platform immediately quits the tree, and 
swings in the air with the animal seated 
upon it. If, on the first shock, the bear 
is not tumbled out, he must either take a 
very dangerous leap, or remain patiently 
in his suspended seat. If he take the 
leap, either involuntarily, or by his own 
pood will, he falls on sharp points, placed 
all about the bottom of the tree ; if he re- 
solve to remain where he is, he is shot 
by arrows or musket balls. 


White butterbur. Tressilairo alba. 

Samiar|) 27. 

St. John Chrysostom. St. Julian of 
Mans. St. Marius. 


It is observed in Dr. Forster's " Per- 
ennial Calendar," that " Buds and em- 
biyo blossoms in their silky, downy coats, 

often finely varnished to protect lliem froir 
the wet and cold, are the principal bo. 
tanical subjects for observation in Janu- 
ary, and iheir structure is particularly 
worthy of notice ; to the practical gar 
dener an attention to their appearance is 
indispensable, as by them alone can he 
prune with safety. Buds are always 
formed in the spring preceding that in 
which they open, and are of two kinds 
leaf buds and flower buds, distinguished 
by a difference of shape and figure, easi- 
ly discernible by the observing eye ; the 
fruit buds being thicker, rounder, and 
shorter, than the others — hence the gar- 
dener can judge of the probable quantity 
of blossom that will appear :" — 

Lines on Buds, by Coivprr. 
When all this uniform uncoloured scene 
Shall be dismantled of its fleecy load, 
And flush into variety again. 
From dearth to plenty, and from death to life. 
Is Nature's progress, when she lectures man 
In heavenly truth ; evincing, as she makes 
The grand transition, that there lives and 

A soul in all things, and that soul is God. 
He sets the bright procession on its way, 
And marshals all the order of the year ; 
He marks the bounds which winter may noi 

And blunts his pointed fury ; in its case, 
Russet and rude, folds up the tender germ. 
Uninjured, with inimitable art ; 
And ere one flowery season fades and dies. 
Designs the blooming wonders of the next. 

" Buds possess a power analogous to 
that of seeds, and have been called the 
viviparous offspring of vegetables, inas- 
much as they admit of a removal from 
their original connection, and, its action 
being suspended for an indefinite time, 
can be renewed at pleasure." 

On Icicles, by Cowper: 
The mill-dam dashes on the restless wheel. 
And wantons in the pebbly gulf below 
No frost can bind it there ; its utmost force 
Can but arrest the light and smoky mist. 
That in its fall the liquid sheet throws wid?^ 
And see where it has hung th' embroidered 

With foims so various, that no powers of art, 
The pencil, or the pen, may trace the scene! 
Here glittering turrets rise, upbeaiing liigh 
(Fantastic misarrangement !) on the loof 
Large growth of what may seem the sparkling 

And shrubs of fairy land. The crystal drops 
That trickle down the brunches, fast con 

Shoot into pillars of pellucid length, 
And prop the pile they but adorned before, 




Earth Moss. Phascum cuspidatum. 
Dedicated to St. Chrysostom. 

S)anuar)) 28, 

St. Jgnes.— Second Commemoration. 
St. Ci/ril, A. D. 4 14. Sts. Thyrsus, Leu- 
cms, and Callinicus. St. John of 
Reomay, a. d. 540. Blessed Margaret, 
Princess of Hungary, a. p. 1271. 
St. PauUnus, a. u. 804. Blessed 
Chark'magnc; Emperor, a. d. 814. 
St. Glastiait, of Fife, a. d. 830. 
St. Thyrsus. 

Several churches in Spain are dedicated 
to him. In 777, the queen of Oviedo and 
Asturia presented one of them with a 
silver chalice and paten, a wash-hand 
basin and a pipe, which, according to 
Butler, is " a silver pipe, or quill to suck 
up the blood of Christ at the communion, 
such as the pope sometimes uses — it sucks 
up as a nose draws up air." 

John Gotxlob Immanuel Breitkopf, a 
celebrated printer, letter-founder, and 
bookseller of Leipsic, died on this day, in 
the year 1794 : he was born there No- 
vember 23, 1719. After the perusal of a 
work by Albert Durer, in which the shape 
of the letters is deduced from mathema- 
tical principles, he endeavoured to fashion 
them accoiding to the most beautifid 
models in matrices cut for the pur- 
pose. His printing-office and letter- 
foundery acquired very high reputation. 
It contained punches and matrices for 
400 alphabets, and he employed the types 
of Baskerville and Didot. Finding that 
engraving on wood had given birth to 
printing, and that the latter had contri- 
buted to the improvement of engraving, 
he transferred some particulars, in the 
province of the engraver, to that of the 
printer ; and represented, by typography, 
all the marks and lines which occur in 
the modern music, with all the accurac:y 
of engraving, and even printed maps and 
mathematical figures with movable types ; 
though the latter he considered as a mat- 
ter of mere curiosity : such was also ano- 
thei attempt, that of copying portraits by 
movable types. He likewise printed, 
with movable types, the Chinese charac- 
ters, which are, in general, cut in pieces 
of wood, so that a whole house is often 
necessary to contain the blocks employed 

for a single book. He iniproved type- 
metal, by giving it that degree of hard- 
ness, which has been a desideratum in 
founderies of this kind; and discovered a 
new method of facilitating the process of 
melting and casting. From his iounderv 
he sent types to Russia, Sweden, Poland, 
and even America. He also improved 
the printing-press. 

Besides this, his inquiries into the origin 
and progress of the art of printing, fur- 
nished the materials of a history, which 
he left behind in manuscript. lie pub- 
lished in 1784, the first part of " An At- 
tempt to illustrate the origin of playing- 
cards, the introduction of paper made 
from linen, and the invention of engraving 
on wood in Europe ;" the latter part was 
finished, but not published, before his 
death. His last publication was a small 
" Treatise on Bibliography," &o. pub- 
lished in 1793, with his reasons for re- 
taining the present German characters. 
With the interruption of only five or six 
hours in the twenty-four, which he allowed 
for sleep, his whole life was devoted to 
study and useful employment. 


Double Daisy, nellis perennis plenui, 
Dedicated to St. Margaret of Hungary. 

iamiarp 29. 

St. Francis of Sales, a. d. 1622. St. 

Sulpiciits Sevcrus, a. d. 420. St.frildas 

the Abbot, a.d. 570. St. Gildas, the 

Scot, A. D. 512. 

This being the anniversary of the king's 
accession to the throne, in 1820, is a 
Holiday at all the public offices, except the 
Excise, Stamps, and Customs. 


Flowering Fern. Osmunda regalis 
Dedicated to St. Francis of Sales. 

Sanuarp 30. 

KING Charles's martyrdom. 

Holiday at the Public Offices; except the 
Stamps, Customs, and Excise. 

St. Bathildes, Queen of Navarre, a. d. 680. 

St. Martina. St. Aldegondes, a. d. 660. 

ut. Barsimceus, a. d. 114. 
St. Martina. 

The Jesuit Ribadeneira relates that the 
emperor Alexander IV., having decreed 
that all christians should sacrifice to the 
Roman gods, or die, insinuated to St 



Martina, that if she would conform to the 
edict, he would make hev his empress 
Dut on herbein^ taken to the temple, " by' 
a sudden earthquake the blockish idol of 
Apollo was broken in pieces, a fourth part 
of his temple thrown down, and, with his 
ruins, were crushed to death ; his priests 
and many others, and the emperor him- 
self, began to fly." Whereupon St. 
Martina taunted the emperor ; and the 
devil, in the idol, rolling himself in the 
fiust, made a speech to her, and another 
to the emperor, and " fled through the 
air in a dark cloud ; but the emperor 
would not understand it." Then the 
emperor commanded her to be tortured. 
Tliejesuit's stories of these operations and 
her escapes, are wonderfully particular. 
According to him, hooks and stakes did 
her no mischief; she had a faculty of 
shining, which the pouring of hot lard 
upon her would not quench ; when in 
gaol, men in dazzling white surrounded 
her ; she could not feel a hundred and 
eighteen wounds ; a fierce lion, who had 
fasted three days, would not eat her, and 
fire would not burn her; but a sword cut 
her head off in 228, and at the end of 
two days two eagles were found watching 
her body. " That which above all con- 
firmeth the truth of this relation," says 
Ribadeneira, " is, that there is nothing 
herein related but what is in brief in the 
lessons of the Roman Breviary, com- 
manded by public authority to be read 
on her feast by the whole church," 


On this day, in the year 1649, king 
Charles I. was beheaded. In the Com- 
mon Prayer Book of the Church of Eng- 
land, it is called " The Day of the Martyr- 
dom of the Blessed King Charles I. ;" 
and there is " A Form of Prayer, with 
Fasting, to be used yearly" upon its re- 

The sheet, which received the head of 
Charles I. after its decapitation, is care- 
fully preserved along with the commu- 
nion plate in the church of Ashburnham, in 
this county ; the blood, with which it has 
been almos'. entirely covered, now appears 
nearly black. The watch of the unfor- 
tunate monarch is also deposited with the 
linen, the movements of which are still 
perfect. These relics came into the pos- 
session of lord Ashburnham immediately 
after the death of the king. — Brighton 

Lord Orford says, " one can scarce 
conceive a greater absurdity than retain- 
ing the three holidays dedicated to the 
house of Stuart. Was the preservation o» 
James I. a greater blessing to England 
than the destruction of the Spanish ar 
mada, for which no festival is established ? 
Are we more or less free for the execution 
of king Charles? Are we at this day 
still guilty of his blood ? When is the 
stain to be washed out? What sense is 
there in thanking heaven for the restora- 
tion of a family, which it so soon became 
necessary to expel again ?" 

According to the " Life of William 
Lilly, written by himself," Charles L 
caused the old astrologer to be consulted 
for his judgment. This is Lilly's account: 
" His majesty, Charles L, having in- 
trusted the Scots with his person, was, 
for money, delivered into the hands of 
the English parliament, and, by several 
removals, was had to Hampton-court^ 
about July or August, 1647; for he was 
there, and at that time when my house 
was visited with the plague. He was 
desirous to escape from the soldiery, and 
to obscure himself for some time near 
London, the citizens whereof began nov^ 
to be unruly, and alienated in affection 
from the parliament, inclining wholly 
to his majesty, and very averse to me 
army. His majesty was well informed 
of all this, and thought to make good 
use hereof: besides, the army and par- 
liament were at some odds, who should 
be masters. Upon the king's intention 
to escape, and with his consent, madam 
Whorewood (whom you knew very well, 
worthy esquire) came to receive my 
judgment, viz. In what quarter of this 
nation he might be most safe, and not 
to be discovered until himself pleased. 
When she came to my door, I told 
her I would not let her come into my 
house, for I buried a maid-servant of the 
plague very lately : however, up we 
went. After erection of my figure, I 
told her about twenty miles (or there- 
abouts) from London, and in Essex, I 
was certain he might continue undis- 
covered. She liked my judgment very 
well ; and, being herself of a sharp judg- 
ment, remembered a place in Essex about 
that distance, where was an excellent 
house, and all conveniences for his re- 
ception. Away she went, early next 
morning, unto Hampton-court, to ac- 
quaint his majesty ; but see the mis- 
fortune: he, either guided by his own 



approaching hard fate, or misguided by 
Ashburnharn, went away in the night- 
time westward, and surrendered him- 
self to Hammond, in the Isle of Wight. 
Whilst his majesty was at Hampton- 
court, alderman Adams sent his majesty 
one thousand pounds in gold, five hun- 
dred whereof he gave to madam Whore- 
wood. I believe I had twenty pieces of 
that very gold for my share." Lilly pro- 
ceeds thus : " His majesty being in 
Carisbrook-castle, in the Isle of Wight, 
the Kentish men, in great numbers, rose 
in arms, and joined with the lord Gor- 
ing ; a considerable number of the best 
ships revolted from the parliament ; the 
pitizens of London were forward to rise 
•igainst the parliament ; his majesty laid 
tis design to escape out of prison, by 
sawing the iron bars of his chamber win- 
dow ; a small ship was provided, and 
anchored not far from the castle to bring 
him into Sussex ; horses were provided 
ready to carry him through Sussex into 
Kent, that so he might be at the head of 
the army in Kent, and fr(>m thence to 
march immediately to London where 
thousands then would have armed for 
him. The lady Whorewood came to me, 
acquaints me herewith. I got G. Farmer 
(who was a most ingenious locksmith, 
and dwelt in Bow-lane) to make a saw 
to cut the iron bars in sunder, I mean to 
saw them, and aqua fortis besides. His 
majesty in a small time did his work ; 
ihe bars gave liberty for him to go out ; 
he was out with his body till he came to 
his breast ; but then his heart failing, he 
proceeded no farther : when this was 
discoverecl, as soon after it was, he was 
narrowly looked after, and no oppor- 
tunity after that could be devised to en- 
large him." 

Lilly goes on to say, " He was be- 

headed January 30, 1649. After the 
execution, his body was carried to Wind- 
sor, and buried with Henry \'IIIth, 
in the same vault where his body was 
lodged. Some, who saw him embowelled, 
affirm, had he not come unto this untimely 
end, he might have lived, according unto 
nature, even unto the height of old age. 
Many have curiously inquired who it was 
that cut off his head : I have no permis- 
sion to speak of such things ; only thus 
much I say, he that did it is as valiant 
and resolute a man as lives, and one of a 
competent fortune. For my part, I do 
believe he was not the worst, but the 
most unfortunate of kings." 

Lilly elsewhere relates, " that the next 
Sunday but one after Charles I. was 
beheaded, Robert Spavin, secretary unto 
lieutenant-general Cromwell at that time, 
invited himself to dine with me, and 
brought Anthony Pierson, and several 
others, along with him to dinner. Their 
principal discourse all dinner-time was, 
who it was beheaded the king : one said 
it was the common hangman ; another, 
Hugh Peters ; others also were nomi- 
nated, but none concluded. Robert Spa- 
vin, so soon as dinner was done, took me 
by the hand, and carried me to the south 
window ; saith he, ' These are all mistaken, 
they have not named the man that did 
the fact ; it was lieutenant-colonel Joice : 
I was in the room when he fitted himself 
for the work, stood behind him when he 
did it; when done, went in again with 
him. There is no man knows this but iCj/ 
master, viz. Cromwell, commissary Ire- 
ton, and myself.' — ' Doth not Mr. Rush- 
worth know it V said I. ' No, he doth 
not know it,' saith Spavin. The same 
thing Spavin since hath often related 
unto me when we were alone." 


Shrove Tuesday regulates most of the 
moveable feasts. Shrove Tuesday itself 
is the next after the first new moon in the 
month of February, If such new moon 
should happen on a Tuesday, the next 
Tuesday following is Shrove Tuesday. A 
recently published volume furnishes a 

list, the Introduction of which on the next 
page puts the reader in possession of ser- 
viceable knowledge on this point, and 
affords an opportunity for affirming, 
that Mr. Nicolas's book contains a va- 
riety of correct and valuable informar 
tion not elsewhere in a collected form : — 




" Tables, Cal€7ulars, Sfc. for the use of His- 
torians. Antiquaries, and the Legal Pro- 
fession, by N. H. Nicolas, Esq." 

4dvent Sundajf, is the nearest Sunday to 
the feast of St. Andrew, November 
30th, whether before or after. 
Ascension Day. or Holy Thursday, is the 
Thursday in Rogation week, i. e. the 
week following Rogation Sunday. 
^sh JFednesday, or the first day in lent, 

is the day after Shrove Tuesday. 
Carle, or Care Sunday, or the fifth Sun- 
day in lent, is the fifth Sunday affer 
Shrove Tuesday. 
Corpus Christi, or Body of Christ, is a 
festival kept on the Thursday after 
Trinity Sunday ; and was instituted in 
the year 1264. 

Easter Day. The Paschal Sabbath. The 
Eucharist, or Lord's Supper, is the 
seventh Sunday after Shrove Tuesday, 
and is always the first Sunday after 
the first full moon, which happens on 
or next after the 21st of March. 
„ ^ ,, , fare the Monday and 

Easter Monday ) ^^esday foUowmg 

Easter Tuesday |_ faster day. 

Ember Days, are the Wednesdays, Fri- 
days, and Saturdays, after the first Sun- 
day in lent ; after the Feast of Pente- 
cost ; after Holy-rood Day, or the Feast 
of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, 
viz. 14th September ; and after St. 
Lucia's day, viz. 1 5th December. 

Ember Weeks, are those weeks in which 
the Ember days fall. 

The Exicharist. See Easter day. 

Good Friday, is the Friday in Passion 
Week, and the next Friday before Eas- 
ter day. 

Holy Thursday. See Ascension day. 

Lent, a Fast from Ash Wednesday, to 
the Feast of Easter, viz. forty days. 

Lord's Supper. See Easter day. 

Low Sunday, is the Sunday next after 
Easter day. 

Maunday Thursday, is the day before 
Good Friday. 

Midlent, or the fourth Sunday in Lent, is 
the fourth Sunday after Shrove Tues- 

Palm Sunday, or the sixth Sunday in 
Lent, is the sixth Sunday after Shrove 

Paschal Sabbath. See Easter day. 

Passion IFeek, is the week next ensuing 
after Palm Sunday 

Pentecost or JVhlt Sunday, is the fif- 
tieth day and stventh Sunday after 
Easter day. 

Quinquagesima Sunday, is so oameo 
from its being about the fiftieth day 
before Easter. It is also called Shrove 

UcUck Sunday, is the third Sunday after 

Rogation Sunday, is the fifth Sunday af- 
ter Easter day. 

Rogation Days are the Monday, Tuesday, 
and Wednesday following Rogation 

Shrove Sunday, is the Sunday next be- 
fore Shrove Tuesday. It is also called 
Quinquagesima Sunday. 

feptuagesima Sunday, so called from 
its being about the seventieth day be- 
fore Easter, is the third Sunday before 

Sexagesima Sunday, is the second Sun- 
day before Lent, or the next to Shrove 
Sunday, so called as being about the 
sixtieth day before Easter. 

Trinity Sunday, or the Feast of the Holy 
Trinity, is the next Sunday after Pen- 
tecost or Whitsuntide. 

frhit Sunday. See Pentecost. 

jr/'f M d r^"^^ ^^ Monday anu 

/rr/-, tt"" ';■'' < Tuesday following 

flhit Tuesday |whit Sunday. 

JFhitsuntide, is the three days above- 

The Figil or Eve of a feast, is the day 
before it occurs. Thus the Vigil of the 
feast of St. John the Baptist is" the 23d 
of June. If the feast-day falls upon a 
Monday, then the Vigil or the Eve is 
kept upon the Saturday preceding. 

The Morrow of a feast, is the day follow- 
ing : thus the feast of All Souls, is No- 
vember 2d, and the Morrow of All 
Souls is consequently the 3d of Novem- 

The Octave or Utas of each feast, is al- 
ways the eighth day after it occurs ; 
for example, the feast of St. Hillary, is 
the! 13th of February, hence the Octave 
of St. Hillary, is the 20th of that 

In the Octaves, means within the eight 
days following any particular feast. 


Is tne ninth Sunday before Easter Sunaay 




Is the eighth Sunday before Easter. 


Is the seventh Sunday before Easter. 


Is the sixth Sunday before Easter, and 

the first Sunday in Lent, which com- 
mences on Ash Wednesday. 

" The earliest term of Septuagesima 
Sunday is the 18th of January, when 
Easter day falls on the 22d of March ; 
the latest is the 22d of February, when 
Easter happens on the 25th of April " 


Shepherd in his " Elucidation of the 
Book of Common Prayer" satisfactorily 
explains the origin of these days : 

"When the words Septuagesima, Sex- 
agesima, and Quinquagesima were first 
applied to denote these three Sundays, 
the season of Lent had generally been 
extended to a fast of six weeks, that is, 
thirty-six days, not reckoning the Sun- 
days, which were always celebrated as 
festivals. At this time, likewise, the Sun- 
day which we call the first Sunday in 
Lent, was styled simply Quadragesitna, 
or the fortieth, meaning the fortieth day 
before Easter. Quadragesima was also 
the name given to Lent, and denoted the 
Quadragesimal, or forty days' fast. When 
the three weeks before Quadragesima 
ceased to be considered as weeks after 
the Epiphany, and were appointed to be 
observed as a time of preparation for 
Lent, it was perfectly conformable to the 
ordinary mode of computation to reckon 
backwards, and for the sake of even and 
round numbers to count by decades. 
The authors of this novel institution, and 
the compilers of the new proper offices, 
would naturally call the first Sunday be- 
fore Quadragesima, Quinquagesima ; the 
second, Sexagesima ; and the third, Se{>- 
uaagesima. This reason corresponds 
-vith the account that seems to be at pre- 
sent most generally adopted." 

Tliere is much difference of opinion as 
to whether the fast of Lent lasted an- 
ciently during forty days or forty hours. 


Common Maidenhair. Asplenlum tri- 


Dedicated to St. Martina. 

Saminrp 3!. 

Kirvg Gioree IV. proclaiined. Holiiiay at the Ex- 

St. Peter Nolasco, a. d. 125«. .S^ Se- 
rapion, a. d. 1240. St. Cyrus and 
John. St. Marcella, a. d. 4*10. St. 
Maidoc, or Maodhog, alias Aidar, 
otherwise Mogui, Bishop of Ferni, 
A. D. 1632. 

St. Peter Nolasco. 

Ribadeneira relates, that on the 1st o' 
August 1216, the virgin Mary with 
beautiful train of holy virgins appeared 
to this saint at midnight, and signified 
it was the divine pleasure that a new 
order should be instituted under the 
title of Our Blessed Lady of Mercy, for 
the redem.ption of captives, and that 
king James of Aragon had the same 
vision at the same time, and "this order, 
therefore, by divine revelation, was 
founded upon the 10th, or as others say, 
upon the 23d of August." Then Su 
Peter Nolasco begged for its support, 
and thereby rendered himself offensive 
to the devil. For once taking up his 
lodging in private, some of the neigh- 
bours told him, that the master of the 
house, a man of evil report, had lately 
died, and the place had ever since been 
inhabited by " night spirits," wherein 
he commended himself to the virgin and 
other saints, and " instantly his admoni- 
tois vanished away like smoke, leaving 
an intolerable scent behind them." These 
of course were devils in disguise. Then 
he passed the sea in his cloak, angels 
sung before him in the habit of his order, 
and the virgin visited his monastery. 
One night he went into the church and 
found the angels singing the service 
instead of the monks ; and at another 
time seven stars fell from heaven, and on 
digging the ground " there, they found a 
most devout image of our lady under a 
great bell," — and so forth. 


Ilartstongue. Aspleninm Scolopendium. 
Dedicated to St. Marcella. 

Vol. I. 





Then came cold February, sitting 

In an old waggon, for he could not ride, 
Drawne of two fishes, for the season fitting. 
Which thiough tlie flood before did softly slyde 
And swim away; yet had he by his side 
His plough and harnesse fit to till the grouml, 
And tooles to prune the trees, before the pride 
Of hasting prime did make them burgeon round. 


This month has Pisces or the fishes for 
its zodiacal sign. Numa, who was chosen 
by the Roman people to succeed Ro- 
mulus as their king, and became their 
legislator, placed it the second in the 
year, as it remains with us, and dedi- 
cated it to Neptune, the lord of waters. 
Its name is from the Februa, or Feralia, 
sacrifices offered to the manes of the 
gods at this season. Ovid in his Fasti 
attests the derivation : 
In ancient times, purgations had the name 
Of Februa , various customs prove the same ; 
The pontiffs from the rex andjlfntien crave 
A lock of wool ; in former days they gave 
To wool the name of Februa. 
A pliant branch cut from a lofty pine. 
Which round the temples of the priests they 

In short, with whatsoe'er our hearts we hold 
Are purified, was Februa termed of old ; 
Lustrations are from hence, from hence the 

Of this our month of February came ; 
In which the priests of Pan processions made ; 
In which the tombs were also purified 
Of such as had no dirges when they died; 
For our religious fathers did maintain, 
Purgations expiated every stain 
Of guilt and sin ; from Greece the custom 

But here adopted by another name ; 
The Grecians held that pure lustrations could 
Efface an impious deed, or guilt of blood 
Weak men ; to think that water can make 

A bloody crime, or any sinful stain. 

Massey's Ovid. 
Our Saxon ancestors, according to Ver- 
Is Februa called ; which if the priest demand, stegan, " called February Sproitt-kele, by 
A. branch of pine is put into his hand ; kele meaning the keie-wurt, which we 



now call the colewurt, the greatest pot- 
wurt in time long past tliat our ancesto'S 
used, and the broth made therewith was 
thereof also called kele ; for before we 
borrowed from the French the name of 
potage, and the name of herbc, the one 
in OAir owne language was called kele, and 
the Other ivurt ; and as this kele-wurt, 
or potage-hearbe, was the chiefe winter- 
wurt for the sustenance of the husband- 
man, so was it the tirst hearbe that in 
this moneth began to yeeld out wliole- 
some yong sprouts, and consequently 
gave thereunto the name of Sprout-kele." 
The " kele " here mentioned, is the well- 
known kale of the cabbage tribe. But 
the Saxons likewise called this month 
" Solmonath," which Dr. Frank Sayers in 
his " Disquisitions " says, is explained 
by Bede "mensis plancentarum," and 
rendered by Spelrnan in an unedited 
manuscript '■^pan-cake month," because 
in the course of it, cakes were offered by 
the pagan Saxons to the sun ; and " Sol," 
or " soul," signified " food," or cakes." 
In " The Months," by Mr. Leigh Hunt, 

he remarks that " if February were not 
tlie precursor of spring, it would be the 
least pleasant season of the year, Novem- 
ber not excepted. The thaws now take 
place; and a clammy mixture of moisture 
and cold succeeds, which is the most 
disagreeable of wintry sensations." Y'et 
so variable is our climate, that the Febru- 
ary of 1825 broke in upon the inhabitants 
of the metropolis with a day or two of 
piercing cold, and realized a delightful 
description of January sparkled from the 
same pen. " What can be more delicately 
beautiful than the spectacle which some- 
times salutes the eye at the breakfast- 
room window, occasioned by the hoar- 
frost dew.' If a jeweller had come to 
dress every plant over night, to surprise 
an Eastern sultan, he could not produce 
any thing like the * pearly drops,' or the 
' silvery plumage.' An ordinary bed of 
greens, to those who are not at the 
mercy of their own vulgar associations, 
will sometimes look crisp and corrugated 
emerald, powdered with diamonds.'' 


Sunk in the vale, whose concave depth receives 
The wateis draining from these shelvy banks 
When the shower beats, yon pool with pallid gleam 
Betrays its icy covering. From the glade 
Issuing in pensive file, and moving slow, 
The cattle, all unwitting of the change. 
To quench their customary thirst advance. 
With wondering stare and fruitless sean-h they trace 
The solid margin : now bend low the head 
In act to drink ; now with fastidious nose 
Snuffing the marble floor, and breathing loud, 
Fiom the cold touch withdraw. Awhile they stind 
In disappointment mute ; with ponderous feet 
Then bruise the surface: to each stroke the woods 
Reply ; forth gushes the imprisoned wave. 

St. Ignatius. St. Pioiiius, a. d. 250. St. 
Bridget. St. Kinnia. St. Sigebert II. 

St. Bridget. 

St. Bride, otherwise St. Bridget, con- 
fers her name upon the parish of St. 
Bride's, for to her its church in Fleet- 
street is dedicated. Butler says she was 
born in Ulster, built herself a cell 
under a large oak, thence called Kill-dara, 

yet he declares that " her five modern 
lives mention little else but wonderful 
miracles." According to the same author, 
she flourished in the beginning of the 
sixth century, her body v/as found in the 
twelfth century, and her head " is now 
kept in the church of the Jesuits at Lis- 
bon." This writer does not favour us 
with any of her miracles, but bishop Pa- 
trick mentions, Uiat wild ducks swim- 
ming in the water, or flying in the air, 
obeyed her call, came to her hand, lei 

or cell of the oak, was joined by others of her embrace them, and then she let them 

her own sex, formed several nunneries, fly away again. He also found in the 

and became patroness of Ireland. " But," breviary of Sarum, that when she was sent 

says Butler, " a full account of her vir- a-milking W he-- "^'^ihev to make butter, 

tues has not been transmitted down to us, she gave away au the milk to the poor; 

together with the veneiation of her name ;" that when the rest of the maias brought 



in their milk she prayed, and the butter 
multiplied ; that the butter she gave away 
she divided into twelve parts, " as if it 
were for the twelve apostles ; and one 
part she made bigger than any of the 
rest, which stood for Christ's portion ; 
though it is strange," says Patrick, " that 
she forget to make another inequality by 
ordering one portion more of the butter 
to be made bigg;er than the remaining 
ones in honour of St. Peter, the prince of 
the apostles." • 


In Mr. Fosbroke's " British Monarch- 
ism," the observation of this catholic ce- 
remony is noticed as being mentioned in 
" Ernulphus's Annals of Rochester Cathe- 
dral," and by Selden. From thence it ap- 
pears to have taken place just before the 
octaves of Easter Austin says, " that it 
used to be sung in all churches from 
Easter to Pentecost, but Damasus ordered 
it to be performed at certain times, 
whence it was chanted on Sundays from 
the octaves of Epiphany to Septuagesima, 
and on the Sundays from the octaves of 
Pentecost and Advent. One mode of 
burying the Alleluia was this : in the 
sabbath of the Septiiageshna at Nones, 
the choristers assembled in the great ves- 
tiary, and there arranged the ceremony. 
Having finished the last ' Benedicamus,' 
they advanced with crosses, torches, holy 
waters, and incense, carrying a turf (Gle- 
bam) in the manner of a coffin, passed 
through the choir and went howling to 
the cloister, as far as the place of inter- 
ment •, and then having sprinkled the wa- 
ter, and censed the place, returned by the 
same road. According to a story (whe- 
ther true or false) in one of the churc.ies 
of Paris, a choir boy used to whip a top, 
marked with Alleluia, written in golden 
\etters, from one end of the choir to the 
other. In other places Alleluia was bu- 
ried by a serious service on Septuagesima 


Lesser Water Moss. Fontinalls minor. 
Dedicated to St. Ignatius. 

Bay. Laurns nobilis. 
Dedicated to St. Bridget. 

Holiday at the Public Orficps, except Excise, Stamjis, 
and Ciistiims. 

The Purification. St. Laurence, Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury, a. d. 619 


This being the festival which catholics 

call the Purification of the virgin, they 
observe it with great pomp. It stands as 
a holiday in the calendar of the church 
of England. Naogeorgus thus introduces 
the day ; or rather Barnaby Googe, m 
his translation of that author's, " Popish 
Kingdom :" 
" Then comes the Day wherein the Virgin 

offred Christ unto 
The Father chief'e, as Moyses law 

commaunded hir to do. 
Then numbers great of Tapers large, 

both men and women beare 
To Church, being halowed there with pomp 

and dreadful words to heare. 
This done, eche man his Candell lightes 

where chiefest seemeth hee, 
Whose -Taper greatest may be seene 

and fortunate to bee ; 
Whose Candell burneth cleare and b».g!ii, 

a wondrous force and might 
Doth in these Candels lie, which if 

at any time they light, 
They sure beleve that neyther storme 

or tempest dare abide. 
Nor thunder in the skies be heard, 

nor any Devil's spide. 
Nor fearefuU sprites that w Ike by night, 
nor hurts of frost or haile." — • 
According to " The Posey of Prayers, or 
the Key of Heaven," it is called Candle- 
mas, because before mass is said this day, 
the church blesses her candles for the 
ivhole year, and makes a procession with 
hallowed or blessed candles in the hands 
of the faithful." 

From catholic service-books, quoted 
in " Pagano Papismus," some particulars 
are collected concerning the blessing 
of the candles. Being at the altar, 
the priest says over them several prayers ; 
one of which commences thus : " O Lord 
Jesu Christ, who enlightenest every one 
that cometh into the world, pour out thy 
benediction upon these Candles, and 
sanctifie them with the light of thy 
grace," &c. Another begins: "Holy 
Lord, Father Almighty, Everlasting God, 
who hast created all things of nothing, 
and by the labour of bees caused this 
liquor to come to the perfection of a wax 
candle ; we humbly beseech thee, that by 
the invocation of thy most holy name, 
and by the intercession of the blessed 
virgin, ever a virgin, whose festivals are 
this (lay devoutly celebrated, and by the 
prayers of all thy saints, thou wouldst 
vouchsafe to bless and sanctifie these can- 
dles," &:c. Then the priest sprinkles the 
candles thrice with holy water, saying 
"Sprinkle me with," &c. and perfumes 
them thrice with incense. One of the 



consecratory prayers begins : " O Lord 
Jesu Christ, bless this creature of wax tc 
Tjs thy suppliants ; and infuse into it, by 
the virtue of the holy cross, thy heavenly 
oenediction ; that in whatsoever places it 
shall be lighted, or put, the devil may 
depart, and tremble, and fly away, with 
all his ministers, from those habitations, 
and not presume any more to disturb 
them," &c. There is likewise this bene- 
diction : "I bless thee, O wax, in the 
name of the holy trinity, that thou may'st 
be in every place the ejection of Satan, 
c.nd subversion of all his companions,' 
&c. During the saying of these prayers, 
various bowings and crossings are inter- 
jected ; and when the ceremonies of con- 
secration are over, the chieftst priest 
goes to the altar, and he that officiates 
receives a candle from him ; afterwards, 
that priest, standing before the altar to- 
wards the people, distributes the candles, 
first to the priest from whom he received 
a candle, then to others in order, all kneel- 
ing (except bishops) and kissing the can- 
dle, and also kissing the hand of the 
priest who delivers it. When he begins 
to distribute the candles, they sing, "A 
light to lighten the gentiles, and the 
glory of thy people Israel.'' After the 
candles are distributed, a solemn proces- 
sion is made ; in which one carries a 
censer, another a crucifix, and the rest 
burning candles in their hands. 

The practice is treated of by Butler in 
his notice of the festival under this 
head, "On blessing of Candles and the 
Procession." It is to be gathered from 
him that "St. Bernard says the procession 
was first made by St. Joseph, Simeon, and 
Anne, as an example to be followed by 
all the earth, walking two and two, hold- 
ing in their hands candles, lighted from 
fire, first blessed by the priests, and sing- 
ing." The candle-bearing has reference to 
Simeon's declaration in the temple when he 
took Jesus in his arms, and affirmed that 
he was a light to lighten the gentiles, and 
the glory of Israel. This was deemed 
sufficient ground by the Romish church, 
whereon to adopt the torch-bearing of 
Ihe pagans in honour of their own deities, 
as a ceremony in honour of the presenta- 
tion of Jesus in the temple. The pagans 
used lights in their worship, and Constan- 
tino, and other emperors, endowed churches 
with land and various possessions, for the 
maintenance of lights m catholic churches, 
and frequently presented the ecclesiastics 
with coffeis full of candles and tapers. 

INIr. Fosbroke shows, from catholic autho- 
rities, tliat liglit-beaiing on Candlemas 
day is an old Pagan ceremony ; and 
from Du Cange, that it was substituted 
by pope Gelasius for the candles, which 
in Febraary the Roman people used to 
carry in tl»e I.upercalia. 

Pope Innocent, in a sermon on this fes ■ 
tival, quoted in " Pagano Papismus," in- 
quires, " Why do we (the catholics) in 
this feast carry candles?" and then he ex- 
plains the matter by way of answer. 
" Because," says he, " the gentiles dedi- 
cated the month of February to the infernal 
gods, and as, at the beginning of it, Pluto 
stole Proserpine, and her mother, Ceres, 
sought her in the night with lighted can- 
dles, so they, at the beginning of this 
month, walked about the city with lighted 
candles ; because the holy fathers could 
not utterly extirpate this custom, they or- 
dained that Christians should carry about 
candles in honour of the blessed virgin 
i\Iary : and thus,'' says the pope, " what 
was done before to the honour of Ce- 
res is now done to the honour of the 

Polydore Vergil, observing on the pagan 
processions and the custom of publicly 
carrying about images of the gods 
with relics, says, " ()ur priests do the 
same thing. We observe all these cere- 
monies, but I know not whether the cus- 
tom is as good as it is showy ; I fear, I 
fear, I say, that in these things, we rather 
please the gods of the heathen than Jesus 
Christ, for they were desirous that their 
worshippers should be magnificent in their 
processions, as Sallust says ; but Christ 
hates nothing more than this, telling us, 
When thou prayest, enter into thy closet, 
and irhen thou hast shut thy door pray to 
thy Father. What will then become of 
us, if we act contrary to his command- 
ment? Surely, whatever may become of 
us, we do act contrary to it." 

Brand shows, from " Dunstan's Concord 
of Monastic Rules," that the monks went in 
surplices to the church for candles, which 
were to be consecrated, sprinkled with 
holy water, and censed by the abbot. 
Every monk took a candle from the sa- 
crist, and lighted it. A procession was 
made, thirds and mass were celebrated, 
and the candles, after the offering, were 
offered to the priest. Tlie monks' can- 
dles signified the use of those in the pa- 
rable of the wise virgins. 

In catholic countries the people joined 
the priests in their public processions to 



the churches, every individual bearing a 
burning candle, and the churches them- 
selves blazed with supernumerary illumi- 
nations at mid-day. 

It is to be noted, that from Candlemas 
the use of tapers at vespers and litanies, 
which prevailed throughout the winter, 
ceased until the ensuing All Hallow 
Mass; and hence the origin of an old 
English proverb in Ray's Collection—' 

" Oa Candlemas-day 

Throw candle and candlestick away." 

Candlemas candle-carrying remained 
in England till its abolition by an order 
in council, in the second year of king 
Edward VI. 

The " Golden Legend" relates, that a 
lady who had given her mantle to a poor 
man for the love of our lady, would not go 
to church on Candlemas-day, but went into 
her own private chapel, and kneeling be- 
fore the altar, fell asleep, and had a mira- 
culous vision, wherein she saw herself at 
church. Into this visionary church she 
imagmed that a troop of virgins came, 
with a noble virgin at their head, " crown- 
ed ryght precyously," and seated them- 
selves in order ; then a troop of young 
men, who seated themselves in like order; 
then one, with a proper number of can- 
dles, gave to each a candle, and to the 
lady herself he gave a candle of wax ; 
then came St. Laurence as a deacon, and 
St. Vincent as a sub-deacon, and Jesus 
Christ as the priest, and two angels bear- 
ing candles ; then the two angels began 
the Introit of the mass, and the virgins 
sung the mass ; then the virgins went 
and each ofiered the candle to the priest, 
and the priest waited for the lady to offer 
her candle ; then " the glorious queue of 
virgyns" sent to her to say that she was 
not courteous to make the priest tarry so 
long for her, and the lady answered that 
the priest might go on with the mass, for 
she should keep her candle herself, and 
not offer it ; and the vir^ in sent a second 
time, and the lady said she would not 
offer the candle ; then " the queue of vir- 
gyns" said to the messenger, " Pray her to 
offer the candle, and if she will not, take 
it from her by force ;" still she would not 
offer the candle, and therefore the mes- 
senger seized it; but the lady held so 
fast and long, and the messenger drew 
and pulled so hard, that the candle broke, 
and the lady kept half. Then the lady 
awoke, and found the piece of candle in 

her hand ; whereat she marvelled, and 
returned thanks to the glorious virgin, 
who had not suffered her to be without a 
mass on Candlemas-day, and all her Vie. 
kept the piece of candle for a relic ; and 
all they that were touched therewith were 
healed of their maladies and sicknesses. 

Poetry is the history of ancient times. 
We know little of the times sung by Ho- 
mer but from his verses. To Herrick 
we must confess our obligation for ac- 
quaintance with some of the manners 
pertaining to this " great day in the 
calendar." Perhaps, had he not written, 
we should be ignorant that our forefathers 
fared more daintily during the Christmas 
holidays than at other seasons ; be un- 
aware of the rule for setting out the due 
quantum of time, and orderly succession, 
to Christmas ever-greens ; and live, as 
most of us have lived, but ought not to 
live longer, without being informed, that 
the Christmas-losr may be butnt until this 
day, and must be quenched this night 
till Christmas comes again. 

Caiiilleinaa Eve. 
End now the white-loafe and the pye, 
And let all sports with Chiistmas dye. 

* » » 

Kindle the Christmas Brand, and then 

Till sunne-set let it burne. 
Which quencht, then lay it up agen. 

Till Christmas next returne. 

Part must be kept wherewith to teend 

The Christmas Log next yeare , 

And where 'tis safely kept, the fiend 

Can do no mischiefe there, rr ■ , 
Her rick. 

How severely he enjoins the removal 
of the last greens of the old year, and yet 
how essential is his reason for their dis- 
placement : 

Candlemas Eve. 
Down with the Rosemary, and so 
Down with the Bales and ftlisletoe ; 
Down with the Holly, Ivie, all 
Wherewith ye drest the Christmas Hall ; 
That so the superstitious find 
No one least Branch there left behind : 
For look, how many leaves there be 
Neglected there, maids, trust to me, 
So many goblins yoa shall see. 

Hearken to the gay old man again, and 
participate in his joyous anticipations oi 
pleasure from the natural products of the 
new year. His next little poem is a col- 
ly rium for the mind's eye ; 



Ceremonies for Cayi/Uemasse Eve. 

Down witli the Rosemary and Bayes, 

Down vvitli the Misleto ; 
Instead of Holly, now up-raise 

The greener Box (lor show.) 

The Holly hitherto did sway ; 

Let Box now domineere, 
Untill the dancing ikister-day, 

On Easter's Eve appeare. 

Then youthful Box, which now hath grace. 

Your houses to renew, 
Grown old, surrender must his place 

Unto the crisped Yew. 

When Yew is out, then Birch comes in, 

And many Flowers beside, 
Both of a liesh and fragrant kinne. 

To honour Whitsontide. 

Green Bushes then, and sweetest Bents, 

With cooler Oken boughs. 
Come in for comely ornaments 

To re-adoru the house. 

Thus times do shift ; each thing his turne do's 

hold ; 
New things succeed, as former things grow 

old. Heirick. 

Brand cites a curious anecdote con- 
cerning John Cosin, bishop of Durham, 
on this day, from a rare tract, entitled 
" The Vanitie and Downefall of supersti- 
tious Popish Ceremonies, preached in the 
Cathedral Church of Durham, by one 
Peter Smart, a prebend there, July 27, 
1628," Edinborough, 4to. 1628. The 
story is, that " on Candlemass-day last 
past, Mr. Cozens, in renuing that popisli 
ceremonie of burning Candles to the ho- 
nour of our lady, busied himself from 
two of the clocke in the afternoon till foure, 
jn climbing long ladders to stick up wax 
candles in the said Cathedral Church : tlie 
number of all the Candles burnt that 
evening was two hundred and twenty, 
besides sixteen torches ; sixty of those 
burnmg tapers and torches standing upon, 
and near, the high Altar, (as he calls it,) 
where no man came nigh." 

A contributor to the Gentleman's Ma- 
gazine informs Mr. Urban, in 1790, that 
having visited Hanowgate for his health 
a few years before, he resided for some 
time at that pleasant market-town Rip- 
pon, where, on the Sunday before Can- 
dlemas-day, he observed that the colle- 
giate church, a fine ancient building, was 
one continued blaze of light all the after- 
noon from an immense number of can- 

Brand observes, that in the north of 

England this day is called the " Wives* 
least Day;" and he quotes a singular 
old custom from Martm's book oti the 
Western Islands, to this eliect • — " The 
mistress and servants of each family dress 
a sheaf of oats in women's apparel, put 
it in a large basket, and lay a wooden 
club by it, and this they call Brud's Bed; 
and the mistress and servants cry three 
times, ' Briid is come, Briid is welcome !' 
This they do just before going to bed. 
In the morning they look among the 
ashes, and if they see the impression of 
Brijd's club there, they reckon it a pre- 
sage of a good crop, and prosperous year; 
if not, they take it as an ill omen," 

A. Dorsetshire gentleman communi- 
cates a custom which he witnessed at 
Lyme Regis in his juvenile days ; to 
what extent it prevailed he is unable to 
say, his knowledge being limited to the 
domestic circle wherein he was included. 
The wood-ashes of the family being sold 
throughout the year as they were made, 
the person who purchased them annually 
sent a present on Candlemas-day of "a 
large candle. When night came, this 
candle was lighted, and, assisted by its 
illumination, the inmates regaled them- 
selves with cheering draughts of ale, and 
sippings of punch, or some other ani- 
mating beverage, until the candle had 
burnt out. The coming of the Candle- 
mas candle was looked forward to by the 
young ones as an event of some conse- 
quence ; for, of usage, they had a sort of 
right to sit up that night, and partake of 
the refreshment, till all retired to rest, 
the signal for which was the self-extinc- 
tion of the Candlemas candle. 

Bishop Hall, in a Sermon on Candle- 
mas-day, remarks, that " it hath been an 
old (I say not how true) note, that hath 
been wont to be set on this day, that if 
it be clear and sun-shiny, it portends a 
hard weather to come ; if cloudy and 
louring, a mild and gentle season ensu- 
ing." This agrees with cne of Ray s 
proverbs : 

'* The hind had as lief see 
his wife on the bier. 
As that Candlemas-day 

should be pleasant and clear." 

So also Browne, in his " Vulgar Er- 
rors," affirms, that " there is a general 
tradition in most parts of Europe, that 



inferreth the coldness of succeeding win- 
ter from the shining of the sun on Can- 
dlemas-day, according to the proverbial 
distich : 

* Si Sol splendescat Marii purificante, 
JS Jajor erit glacies post festum quam fuit ante.' " 

The " Country Almanac" for 1676, in the 
month of February, versifies to the san^e 
eft«ct : 

" Foul weather is no news ; 
hail, rain, and snow, 
Are now expected, and 

esteeni'd no woe ; 
Nay, 'tis an omen bad. 

The yeomen say. 
If Phoebus shows his face 
the second day." 

Country Alina7iac, [Feh.) 16/fi. 

Other alnr^nacs prophesy to the like pur 

port : 

" If Candlemas-day be fair and bright, 
Winter will have another flight ; 
But if Candlemas-day be clouds and rain. 
Winter is gone, and will not come again." 

The next old saw is nearer the truth than 
either of the preceding; 
'• When Candlem-\s-day is come and gone. 
The snow lies on a hot stone," 


Snowdrop. Gulanthns Nivalis 

Dedicated to the Purification of the 

Virgin Mary. 

Holiday at the Exchequer. 

St. Blase. St. Anncharius, a.d. 865. 
St. fFerebiirge, Patroness of Chester. 
St. Margaret, of England. 

St. Blase. 

This saint has the honour of a place in 
the church of England calendar, on what 
account it is difficult to say. All the 
facts that Butler has collected of him are, 
that he was bishop of Sebaste m Armenia, 
receiver of the relics oi St. Eustratius, 
and executor of his last wdl ; that he is 
venerated for the cure of sore throats ; 
principal patron of Ragusa, titular patron 
of the wool-combers ; and that he was 
tormented with iron combs, and martyred 
under Licinius, in 316. 

Ribadeneira is more diffuse. He re- 
lates, that St. Blase lived in a cave, whi- 
ther wild beasts came daily to visit him, 
atid be cu'-eo by him ; " and if it ha)>- 

oened that they came while he was at 
])rayer, they did not inteirupt him, but 
waited till he had ended, 'and never de- 
parted without his benediction. He was 
discovered in his retirement, imprisoned, 
and cured a youth who had a tish-bone 
stuck in his throat by praying." Riba- 
deneira further says that /Etuis, an ancient 
Greek physician, gave the following 

Receipt for a stoppage in the throat : 

" Hold the diseased party by the 
throat, and pronounce these words : — 
Blase, the marti/r and servant of Jesus 
Christ, commands thee to pass 2tp or 
donin .'" 

The same .Tesuit relates, that St. Blase 
was scourged, and seven holy women 
anointed themselves with his blood ; 
whereupon their flesh was combed 
with iron combs, their wounds ran no- 
thing but milk, their flesh was whiter 
than snow, angel-s came visibly and healed 
their wounds as fast as they were made ; 
and they were put into the fire, which 
would not consume them ; wherefore 
they were ordered to be beheaded, and 
beheaded accordingly. Then St. Blase 
was ordered to be drowned in the lake ; 
but he walked on the water, sat down on 
it in the middle, and invited the infidels 
to a sitting ; whereupon threescore and 
eight, who tried the experiment, were 
drowned, and St. Blase walked back to be 
behead td. 

The " Golden Legend" says, that a 
wolf having lun away with a woman's 
swine, she prayed St. Blase that she 
might have her swine again, and St. 
Blase promised her, with a smile, she 
should, and the wolf brought the swine 
back ; then she slew it, and offered the 
head and the feet, with some bread and 
a candle, to St. Blase. " And he thanked 
God, and ete thereof; and he sayd to 
her, that every yere she sholde offre in 
his chirche a candell. And she dyd all 
her lyf, and she had moche grete pros- 
peryte. And knowe thou that to the, 
and to all them that so shal do, shal 
well happen to them." 

It is observed in a note on Brand, that 
the candles offered to St. Blase were said 
to be good for the tooth-ache, and for 
diseased cattle. 

" Theti foUoweth good sir Blase, who doth 
a waxen Candell give, 
\nd holy water to his men, 
wheieby th°.y safely live 



I Jiveis Barrels oft have seene, 

drawne out of water cleare, 
Through one small blessed bone 

of this same holy Martyr heare : 
And caryed thence to other townes 

and cities farre away. 
Such superstition doth require 

such earnest kinde of play." 

The origin of St. Blase's fame has baf- 
fled the inquiry of antiquaries ; it seems 
to have rolled off with the darkness of 
former ages, never to be known again. 
To the wool-combers this saint is indebted 
for the maintenance of his reputation in 
England, for no otiier trade or persons 
have any interest in remembering his 
existence ; and this popularity with a 
body of so much consequence may pos- 
sibly have been the reason, and the only 
reason, for the retention of his name in 
the church calendar at the Reformation. 
That it is not in the wane with them, is 
clear from a report in the Leeds Merciirif, 
of the 5th of February, 1 825. The article 
furnishes the very interesting particulars 
in the subjoined account :— 

Celebration of 

33t^i)op i^U^t'S dTri^tibal, 


The septennial festival, held in honour 
of bishop Blase, and of the invention of 
wool-combing attributed to that person- 
age, was on this day celebrated at Brad- 
ford with great gaiety and rejoicing. 

There is no place in the kingdom where 
the bishop is so splendidly commemo- 
rated as at Bradford. In 1811, 1818, 
and at previous septennial periods, the 
occasion was celebrated with great pomp 
and festivity, each celebration surpassing 
the preceding ones in numbers and bril- 
liance. The celebration of 1825 eclipsed 
all hitherto seen, and it is most gratifying 
to know, that this is owing to the high 
prosperity of the worsted and woollen 
manufactures, which are constantly add- 
ing fresh streets and suburban villages to 
the town. 

The different trades began to ass?mble 
at eight o'clock in the morning, but it was 
near ten o'clock before they all were ar- 
ranged in marching order in Westgate. 
Tlie arrangements were actively super- 
intended by Matthew Thompson, Esq. 
The morning was brilliantly beautiful. 
As early as seven o'clock, strangers pour- 

ed into Bradford from the surrounding 
towns and villages, in such numbers as 
to line the roads in every direction ; and 
almost all the vehicles within twenty 
miles were in requisition. Bradford was 
never before known to be so crowded 
with strangers. Many thousands of indi- 
viduals must have come to witness the 
scene. About ten o'clock the procession 
was drawn up in the following order : — 

Herald bearing a flag. 
Woolstaplers on horseback, each horse capa- 
risoned with a fleece. 
Worsted Spinners and Manufacturers on 
horseback, in white stuff waistcoats, with 
each a sliver over the shoulder, and 
a white stuff sash ; the horses' 
necks covered with nets 
made of thick yarn. 
Merchants on horseback, with coloured 
ThreeGuards. Masters'Colours. ThreeGuards. 
Ap])rentiees and Masters' Sons, on hor-,e- 
back, with ornamented caps, scarlet stuff 
coats, white stuff waistcoats, and 
blue pantaloons. 
Bradford and Keighley Bands, 
Mace-bearer, on foot. 
Six Guards. King. Quien. Six Guards. 
Guards. Jason. Prince^sMedea. Guards. 
Bishop's Chaplain. 
Shepherd and Shepherdess. 
Shepherd Swains. 
Woolsorttrs, on horseback, with ornamented 
caps, and various coloured slivers. 
Comb Makers. 
Charcoal Burners. 
Cumbers' Colours. 
yVof.lcombers, with wool wigs, &C, 
Dyers, vi\i\\ red cockades, blue aprons, an* 
crossed slivers of red and blue. 

The following were the numbers of the 
different bodies, as nearly as could be 
estimated : — 24 woolstaplers, 38 spinnen 
and manufacturers, 6 merchants, 56 ap- 
prentices and masters' sons, 160 wool- 
sorters, 30 combmakers, 470 wool-combers, 
and 40 di/ers. The King, on this occa- 
sion, was an old man, named JFm.Cloxigh, 
of Darlington, who had filled the legal 
station at four previous celebrations. 
Jason (the celebrated legend of the 
Golden Fleece of Colchis, is interwoven 
with the commemoration of the bishop,) 
was personated by John Smith ; and the 
fair Medea, to whom he was indebted 
for his spoils, rode by his side. — BISHOP 
BLASE was a personage of very be- 



coming gravity, also named John Smith ; 
and he had enjoyed his pontificate several 
previous commemorations; his chaplain 
was James Bedhom. The ornaments of 
the spinners and manufacturers had a 
neat and even elegant appearance, from 
the delicate and glossy whiteness of tlie 
finely combed wool which they wore. 
The apprentices and masters' sons, how- 
ever, formed the most showy part of the 
procession, their caps being richly adorned 
with ostrich feathers, flowers, and knots 
of various coloured yarn, and their stuff 
garments being of the gayest colours; 
some of these dresses, we understand, 
were very costly, from the profusion of 
their decorations. Tlie shepherd, shep- 
herdess, and swains, were attired in light 
green. The wool-sorters, from their num- 
ber and the height of their plumes of 
featliers, wliich were, for the most part, of 
different colours, and formed in the shape 
oi fleur-de-lis, had a dashing appearance. 
The combmakers carried before them the 
instruments here so much celebrated, 
raised on standards, togeth r with golden 
fleeces, rams' heads with gilded horns, 
and other emblems. The combers looked 
both neat and comfortable in their flow- 
ing wig3 of well-combed wool ; and tlie 
garb of the dyers was quite professional. 
Several well-painted flags were displayed, 
one of which represented on one side the 
venerable Bishop in full robes, and on 
the other a shepherd and shepherdess 
under a tree. Another had a painting of 
Medea giving iip the golden fleece to 
Jason : a third had a portrait ofthe King : 
and a fourth appeared to belong to some 
association in the trade. The whole pro- 
cession was from half a mile to a mile in 

When the procession was ready to 
move, Richard Fawcett, Esq. who was on 
horseback at the head of the spinners, 
pronounced, uncovered, and with great 
animation, the following lines, which it 
had long been customary to repeat on 
these occasions, and which, if they have 
not much poetical elegance, have the 
merit of expressing true sentiments in 
simple language : — 

Hail to the day, whose kind auspicious rays 
Deign'd first to smile on famous bishop Blase ! 
To the great autlior of our combing trade, 
This day's devoted, and due honour's paid ; 
To him whose fame tiiro' Britain's isle re- 
To ^'im whose goodness to the poor abounds j 

Long shall his name in British annals shine, 
And grateful ages offer at his shrine ! ' . 
By this our trade are thousands daily fed. 
By it supplied with means to earn then 

In various forms our trade its work unparts, 
In different methods, and by difli'erent arts, 
Preserves from starving, indigents distress'd 
As combers, spiirners, weavers, and the rest. 
We boast no gems, or costly garments vain, 
Borrow'd from India, or the coast of Spain ; 
Our native soil with wool our trade supplies. 
While foreign countries envy us the piize. 
No foreign broil our common good annoys, 
Our country's product all our art employs ; 
Our fleecy flocks abound in every vale. 
Our bleating lambs proclaim the joyful tale. 
So let not Spain with us attempt to vie, 
Nor India's wealth pretend to soar so iiigh ; 
Nor Jason pride him in his Colchian spoil, 
By hardships gain'd, and enterprising toil, 
Since Britons all with ease attain the prize, 
And every hill resounds with golden cries. 
To celebrate our founder's great renown 
Our shepherd and our chepherdess we crown; 
For England's commerce, and for George's 

5 way. 
Each loyal subject give a loud HUZZA. 

These lines were afterwards several 
times repeated, in the principal streets 
and roads through which the cavalcade 
passed. About five o'clock they dispersed. 


Great water moss. Foiitinalis Antejnjre- 

Dedicated to St. Blase. 

St. Andrew Corsini, a. d. 1373. St 
Philens. St. Gilbert. St. Jane, or 
Joan, Queen, a. d. 1505. St. Isidore, 
of Pelusium, a. u. 449. St. Rembcrt, 
Archbishop of Bremen, a. d. 888. 
St. Modan, of Scotland, St. Joseph, 
of Leonissa, a. d. 1612. 

Goe plow in the stubble 

for now is the season 
Eor sowing of fitches, 

of beanes, and of peason. 
Sow runciuals timely, 

and all that be gray, 
But sow not the white, 

till St. Gregorle's day. 



Goldilocks. Polytricnm Commune. 
Dedicated to 67. Jane, 


THE EVERY-DAV book.— FEBRUAllY 5— 1'3. 

Indian Bay Laurus Lul'ica. 
' Dedicated to St. Margaret of England. 

jTebruarj) 5. 

Huliday at the Excliequer. 

St. Agatha. The Martyrs of Japan. The 
Martyrs of China. St. Avitus, Arch- 
bishop, A. D. 525. St. Alice, or 
Adelaide, a. d. 1015. St. Abraamius, 
Bishop of Arbela. 

St. Agatha. 
This saint, who is in the calendar of 
the church of England, was a Sicilian mar- 
tyr about the year 251. Butler relates, 
that before her death she was tortured, 
and being refused physicians, St. Peter 
iiimself came from heaven, healed her 
wounds, and filled her prison with light. 
He also as gtavely staters, that several 
tinies when Catana was in danger from 
the eruptions of mount A'tna, her veil 
carried in procession averted the volcanic 
matter from the city. 


Common Primrose. Primula vulgaris. 

Dedicated to St. Agatha. 

Red Primrose. Primula aculis. 

Dedicated to St. Adelaide. 

;fcl)ruar)) 6. 

Sexagesima Sunday. 

St. Dornthj/, a. d. 308. St. Vedast, 
Bishop, A. n. 5:J9. St. Amandus, a. d. 
675. St. Barsannphius. 


Blue Jacinth. Hyacinthus Orientalis 

Dedicated to St. Dorothy. 

#ieliruarp 7. 

St. Romuald, a. d. 1027. St. Richard, 
King of the Wc-t Saxons, a. d. 722. 
St. Theodurus o' He'-aclea, a. d. 315. 
St. Tresain, 6tn Cent. St. Augulus, 

floral directory. 

Roundleaved Cyclamen. Cyclamen Cotim. 

Dedicated to St. Romuald. 

fthvnnv}) 8. 

St. Joh'i of Matha, a. d. 1213. St. Ste- 
pher of Grandmont, a. c. 1124. St. 
Purl, Bishop of Verdun, a. d, 631. 
Si Cuthman. 

floral riRECTORT. 

Narrow Spring iVloss. Milium Androgy^ 

Dedicated to St. John of Matha. 

Jfebniary 9. 

St. Apollonia, a. d. 249. St. Nicepho- 
rus, A. D. 260. St, Theliau, Bishop, 
a. d. 580. St. Anshert, Abp. of Rou^n, 
A. D. 695. <S^. Attractu or Turahata oi 
Ireland. St. Herard or Eberhard. 

FLORAL directory, 

Roman Narcissus. Narcissus Romanus. 
Dedicated to St. Apollonia. 

jTebniari) lO. 

St. Scholastica, a. d. 543. St. Coteris, 
4 -.h Cent. St. fj'illiam of Maleval, a. n. 
) 1 5 7. St. Erlulph, Scotch Bishop. 


Mezereon. Daphne Mezereon. 

Dedicated to St. Scholastica. 

Silky P'orklMoss. Mninm heteomallum 

Dedicated to St. Coteris. 

fthvmvi^ 11. 

St. Satnrninus Dativns, Sfc. of Africa, 
A. D. 304. St. Severiniis, a. d. 507. 
The Empress Theodora, a. d. 867. 


Red Primrose. Primula J^erna rubra 
Dedicated to St. Theodora. 

fthxxmv^ 12. 

St. Benedict of Anian, a. d. 821. St 
Meletius^of Antioch. a. d. 381. St. 
Enlulia of Barcelona. St. Anthony 
Cauleas, a. d. 896. 


Noble Liverwort. Anemone hepatica. 
Dedicated to St. Eulalia. 

ftU'xmv^ 13. 

St. Catherine deRicci. a.d. 1589. St. Lici- 
nius, Bishop, a.d. 618. St. Polyeuctus, 
A. D. 257. St. Gregory II. Pope. St. 
Martinianus, St. Modomnoe or Donii' 
nick of Ossory, 6th Cent. St. Stephen, 
Abbot, 6th Cent. Roger, Ah\>r,t,K.v 




Polvanthus. Primula polyantha. 
Dedicated to St. Catherine de llicci. 

fthnim'^ 14. 

St. Valentine. St. Maro, a, d. 433. 
St. Abraames, A. D. 422. St. Au- 
gentius, 5th Cent. St. Conran, Bishop 
of Orkney. 

St. Falentlne. 
Of this saint, so celebrated among 

young persons, little is known, e^copx 
that he was a priest of Rome, and mar- 
tyred there about 270. 

It was a custom with the ancient Ro- 
man youth to draw the names of girls in 
honour of their goddess Februata-Juno 
on the 15th of February, in exchange for 
which certain Roman catholic pastors 
substituted the names of saints in billets 
given the day before, namely, on the lllb 
of February. 

Where can the postman be, I say ? 

He ought iojiy — on sach a day . 

Of all days in the year, yoM know, 

Ii'f monstrous rude to be so slow 

The fellow's so exceeding stupid — 

Hark ! — there he is ! — oh ! the dear Cupid ! 

Two liundred thousand letters beyond that's the way to reckon." " Ah, my 
ihe usual daily average, annually pass child, that's not the way to reckon ; you 
through the twopenny post-office m Lon- have taken something into the acconnc that 
don on St. Valentine's Day. " Two has no business there : all Valentine- 
tiundred thousand Iwopences," said an writers are not in love, nor are all lovers 
old gentleman as he read this in a March Valentine-writers; and remember, my 
newspaper, " are four hundred thousand dear girl, that as smiles on the face some- 
pence," — and he was going to cast up the times conceal cruel dispositions, so there 
amount — ''Why, papa," said his daughter, are some who write Valentines, and trifle 
" that's just the number of young folks with hearts for the mere pleasure of in- 
e must be lu io'2 with each other — flictinguain." " I will show vou what I 



mean," said the old gentleman, and tak- 
ing a paper from a drawer, he held up 
this exemplificatics : 

Just then an unmarried ijentleman, 
'* of a certain as^e," entered the room. 
On becoming acquamted with the topic, 
he drew from his pocket a small packet, 
and said, with a merry smile, " Here was 
my Valentine." It contained a rib of 
some small animal completely enveloped 
with white satin ribbon, ornamented by 
a true lovei's knot at each end, and ano- 
ther in the middle. Father and daughter 
both had a laugh at the " old bachelor," 
and he, laughing with them, put into the 
young lady's hand the poetical address 
that accompanied his rib : 

Go contemplate this lovely sign ! 
Haste thee away to reason's shrine, 

And listen to her voice ; 
No more illusive shades pursue, 
To happiness this gives the clue, 

Make but a prudent choice. 
'Till Adam had a partner given, 
Much as fair Eden bloom'd like heaven, 

His bliss was incomplete ; 
No social friend those joys to share. 
Gave the gay scene a vacant air ! 

She came — 'twas all replete. 

And could not genuine Paradise, 
The most extensive wish suffice. 

Its guiltless lord possest ? 
No — not without a kindred mate ; 
How then in this degen'rate state, 

Can man, alone be blest 1 

But now the Muse withdraws her aid ; 
Enough, thy folly to upbraid ; 

Enough to make thee wise : 
No more of pensive hours complain. 
No more, that all life's joys are vain. 

If thou tliis hint despise. 
Feb, 13, 182—, ^ Frknd. 

" Well now, this is capital !" exclaimed 
the laughing lass. " After mch a Valen- 
tine, you viust take the hint, my dear sir. 
it's really a shame that so good-natured a 
man should remain a bachelor. I recollect, 
that when I could only just run about, 
you used to be so kind to me; besides, 
how you dandled and played with me ! 
and since then, how you have read to me 
and instructed me till I grew up ! Such a 
man is the very man to be married : you 
are every way domestic, and it's settled ; 
you mmt get married." — " Well, then, will 
you have me .'" he inquired, with a cheerful 
laugh. " / have you ? No ! Why, you 
are too old ; but not too old to find a 
wife : there are many ladies whom we 
know, of your age, wholly disengaged; 
but you don't pay them any particular 
attention." Her father interposed ; and 
the gentleman she addressed playfully 
said, " It is a little hard, indeed, that I 
should have these fine compliments and 
severe reproaches at the same time : how- 
ever," taking her by the hand, " you will 
understand, that it is possible I may have 
paid particular attention to a lady at an 
age when the affections are warmer ; I 
did ; and I reconciled myself to rejection 
by courting my books and the pleasures 
of solitude — 

Hast thou been ever waking 
From slumbers soft and light. 

And heard sweet music breaking 
The stdlness of the night ; 

When all thy soul was blending 
With that delightful strain, 

And night her silence lending 
To rivet fancy's chain ; 

Then on a sudden pausing. 

Those strains have ceas'd to plav 
A painful absence causing 

Of bliss that died away ! 
So from my soul has vanish 'd 

The dream of youthful days ; 
So Hope and Love are banish'd. 

And Truth her pow'r displays. 

The origin of so pleasant a day, the 
first pleasant day in the year, whether its 
season be regarded, or the mode of its 
celebration, requires some little inves- 
tigation ; nor nmst some of its past aiid 
present usages be unrecorded here. 

St. Valentine's Morimtg. 

Hark ! through the sacred silence of ttie night 
Loud chanticleer doth sound his clarion shrill, 

Hailing with song the first pale gleam of light 
Which floHts the dark brow of vou eastern bilL 



Britrlit star of morn, oh ! leave not yet the wave 
To deck the dewy iVontlet of tlie {"ry ; 

Nor tliou, Aurora, quit Tithonus' cave, 
JSIor drive retiring darkness yet away. 

Ere these my rustic hands a garland twine, 
Ere yet my tongue endite a single song, 

For her I mean to hail my Valentine, 

Sweet maiden, fairest of the viigin throng. 

Doih'eif'i, iflhceU, 

Attend we upon Eli a. Ilark, how perfect simplicity of feeling, < Madam, 
trinmpnantly that noble herald of the my liver and fortune are entirely at your 

disposal,-' or putting a delicate question, 
' Amanda, have you a hhV//-/^ to bestow ." 
But custom has settled these things, and 
awarded the seal of sentiment to the 
aforesaid triangle, while its less fortunate 
neighbours wait at animal and anatomical 

Not many sounds in life, and I ir 

college of kindness proclaims the day ! 

" Hail to thy returning festival, old 
Bishop V^alentine ! Great is thy name in 
the rubric, tliou venerable arch-flamen of 
Hymen ! Immortal Go-between ! who and 
what manner of person art thou ? Art 
thou but a name, typifying the restless 
principle which impels poor humans to 
seek perfection in union .' or wert thou elude all urban and all rural sounds, ex- 

indeed a mortal prelate, with thy tippet 
and thy rochet, thy apron on, and decent 
lawn sleeves ? Mysterious personage ! like 
unto thee, assuredly, there is no other 
mitred father in the calendar. — Thou 
comest attended with thousands and ten 
tliousands of little L9ves, and the air is 

Brush'd with the hiss of rustling wings ; 

Singing Cupids are diy choristers, and thy 
precentors ; and instead of the crosier, 
the mystical arrow is borne before thee. 

" In other wo.ds, this is the day on 
which those charming little missives, 
ycleped Valentines, cross and intercross 
each other at every street and turning. 
The weary and all for-spent twopenny 
postman sinks beneath a load of delicate 
embarrassments, not his own. It is 

oeed in interest a knock at the door. It 
' gives a very echo to the throne where 
Hope is seated.' But its issues seldom 
answer to this oracle w'ithin. It is so 
seldom that just the person we want to 
see comes. But of all the clamorous 
visitations, the welcomest in expectation 
is the sound that ushers in, or seems to 
usher in, a Valentine. As the raven him- 
self was hoarse that announced the fatal 
entrance of Duncan, so the knock of the 
postman on this day is light, airy, confi- 
dent, and befitting one that ' bringeth 
good tidings.' It is less mechanical than 
on other days ; you will say, 'That is not 
the post, I am suie.' Visions of Love, of 
Cupids, of Hymens, and all those de- 
lightful, eternal common-places, which 
* having been, will always- be ;' which no 
scarcely credible to what an extent this schoolboy nor schoolman can write away; 
ephemeral courtship is carried on in this having their irreversible throne in the 
loving town, to the great enrichment of fancy and affections ; what are your trans- 
porters, and detriment of knockers and ports, when the happy maiden, openinp 
bell-wires. In these little visual inter- witli careful finger, careful not to break 

pretations, no emblem is so common as 
ihe heart, — that little three-cornered ex- 
porent of all our hopes and fears, — the 
bestuck and bleeding heart ; it is twisted 
and tortured into more allegories and 
affectations than an opera-hat. What 

the emblematic seal, bursts upon the sight 
of some well-designed allegory, some 
type, some youthful fancy, not without 
verses — 

Lovers all, 

A madiigal, 

authority we have in history or mythology or some such device, not over abundant 

for placing the head-quarters and metro- in sense— yOung Love disclaims it,— and 

polls of god Cupid in this anatomical seat not quite silly— sometlrug between wind 

rather than in any other, is not very clear; and water, a chorus where the sheep 

out we have got it, and it will serve as 
well as any other tiling. Else we might 
easily imagine, upon some other system 
which might have prevailed for any thino- 
which our pathology knows to the con- 
trary, a lover addressing his mistress, in 

might almost join the shepherd, as they 
did, or as I apprehend they did, in Ar- 

" All Valentines are not foolish, and I 
shall not easily forget thine, my kind 
friend (if I may have leave to call you 



so) E. B. — E. B. lived opposite a young 
muideti. whom he had often seen, unseen, 
from his parlour window in C — e-street. 
She was all joyousness and innocence, 
and just of an age to enjoy receiving a 
Valentine, and just of a temper to beai 
the disappointment of missing one with 
good humour. E. B. is an artist of no 
common powers ; in the fancy parts of 
designing, perhaps inferior to none ; his 
name is known at the bottom of many a 
well-executed vignette in the way of his 
profession, but no further ; for E. B. is 
modest, and the world meets nobody 
half-way. E. B. meditated how he c uld 
repay this young maiden for many a fa- 
vour which she had done him unknown ; 
for, when a kindly face greets us, though 
but passing by, and never knows us 
again, nor we it, we shoidd feel it as an 
obligation ; and E. B. did. This good 
aitist set himself at vork to please the 
damsel. It was just before Valentine's 
day three years smce. He wrought un- 
seen, and unsuspected, a wondrous work. 
We need not say it was on the finest gilt 
paper with borders — full, not of common 
hearts and heartless allegory, but all the 
prettiest stories of love from Ovid, and 
older poets than Ovid (for E. B. is a 
scholar.) There was Pyramus and Thisbe, 
and be sure Dido was not forgot, nor 
Hero and Leander, and swans more than 
sang in Cayster, with mottoes and fanci- 
ful devices, such as beseemed, — a work 
in short of magic. Iris dipt the woof. 
This on Valentine's eve he commended 
to the all-swallowing indiscrimmate ori- 
fice — (O, ignoble trust!) — of the common 
post ; but the humble medium did its 
duty, and from his watchful stand, the 
next mornmg, he saw the cheerful mes- 
senger knock, and by and by the precious 
charge delivered. He saw, imseen, the 
happy girl unfold the Valentine, dance 
about, clap her hands, as one after one 
the pretty emblems unfolded themselves. 
She danced about, not with light love, or 
foolish expectations, for she had no lover; 
or, if she had, none she knew that could 
have created those biight images which 
delighted her. It was more like some 
fairy present; a God-send, as our famili- 
arly pious ancestors termed a benefit 
received, where the benefactor was un- 
known. It would do her no harm. It 
would do her good for ever after. It is 
good to love the unknown. I only give 
this as a specimen of E B., and his mo- 
dest way of doing a concealed kindaess. 

" Good morrow to my Valentine, sings 
poor Ophelia; and no better wish, but 
with better auspices, we wish to all faith- 
ful lovers, who are not too wise to despise 
old legends, but are content to rank 
themselves humble diocesans with old 
Bishop Valentine, and his true church." 

Mr. Douce, whose attainments include 
more erudition concerning the origi»3 and 
progress of English customs than any 
other antiquarian possesses, must be re- 
ferred to upon tins occasion. He ob- 
serves, in his " Illustrations of Shak- 
speare," concerning St. Valentine's day, 
that " it was the practice in ancient 
Rome, during a great part of the month 
of February, to celebrate the Lupercalia, 
which were feasts in honour of Pan and 
Juno, whence the latter deity was named 
Febiuata, Februalis, and Februlla. On 
this occasion, amidst a variety of cere- 
monies, the names of young women were 
put into a box, from which they were 
drawn by the men as chance directed. 
The pastors of the early christian church, 
who by every possible means endeavoured 
to eradicate the vestiges of pagan super- 
stitions, and chiefly by some commuta- 
tions of their forms, substituted, in the 
present instance, the names of particular 
saints instead of those of the women , 
and as the festival of the Lupercalia had 
commenced about the middle of February, 
they appear to have chosen St. Valentine's 
day for celebrating the new feast, because 
it occurred nearly at the same time. This 
is, in part, the opinion of a learned and 
rational compiler of the 'Lives of the 
Saints,' the Rev. Alban Butler. It should 
seem, however, that it was 1 1 terly impos- 
sible to extirpate altogether any ceremony 
to which the common people had been 
much accustomed : a fact which it were 
easy- to prove in tracing the origin of 
various other popular superstitions. Ano 
accordingly the outline of the ancient 
ceremonies was preserved, but modified 
by some adaptation to the christian sys- 
tem. It is reasonable to suppose that 
tlie above practice of choosing mates 
would gradually become reciprocal in tlie 
sexes; and that all persons so chosen 
would be called Valentines, from the day 
on which the ceremony took place." 

Leaving intermediary facts to tbe cu- 
rious inquirer, we come immediately to 
a few circumstances and sayings fiom 
grave aulliors and gay poets respecting 

11 r 


this festival, as it is observed in our own 
country. It is recorded as a rural tradi- 
tion, that on St. Valentine's day each bird 
of the air chooses its mate ; and hence it 
IS presumed, that our homely ancestors, 
in their lusty youth, adopted a practice 
which we still find peculiar to a season 
when nature bursts its imprisonments for 

the coming |)leasures of the cheerfiil 
spring. Lydgate, the monk of Bury, 
who died in 1440, and is described by 
Warton to have been " not only the poet 
of his monastery, but of the world in 
general," has a poem in praise of queene 
Catherine, consort to Henry V., wherein 
he says : 

Seynte Valentine. Of custome yeere by yeere 

Alen have an usaunce, in this regioun. 
To loke and serche Cupides kalendere, 

And chose theyr choyse, by grete affeccioun ; 

Such as ben viove with Cupides mocioun, 
Takyng theyre choyse as theyr sort doth lalie : 
But I love oon whiche excellith alle. 

Chducer imagines "Nature the vicare happiest of living things at this seison^ 
of the Almightie Lord," to address the the birds, thus : 

Foules, take hede of my sentence I pray, 

And for your own ease in fordring of your need. 

As fast as I may speak I will me speed : 
Ye know well, how on St. Valentine's day 

By my statute and through my governaunce. 
Ye doe chese your Makes, and after flie away 

With hem as I move you with pleasaunce 

* * * * » 

Saint Valentine, thou art full high on loft, 
Which drivest away the long night^s black, 
Thus singen small^ foules for thy sake, 
Will have they caus^ for to gladden oft, 
Since each of them recovered hath his Make : 
Full blissful may they sing, when they awake. 

Our young readers are informed, that 
the word " make" in Chaucer, now ob- 
solete, signified mate. 

■Jago, a poet, who, if he has not soared 
to greatness, has at least attained to the 
easy versification of agreeable, and some- 
times higher feelings, has left us a few 
stanzas, which harmonize with the sup- 
positions of Chaucer : 

^t. Valentines Day. 

The tuneful choir in amorous strains 

Accost their feathered loves ; 
While each fond mate, with equal pains, 

The tender suit appioves. 

With cheerful hop from spray to spray 

They sport along the meads j 
In social bliss together stray. 

Where love or ismy leads. 

Through Spring's f?y &oeT.",s each happy pair 

Their fluttering joys p'lrsue ; 
Its various charms and produce shaie. 

For ever kind and true. 

Their sprightly notes from every 

Their mutual love* proclaim; 
Till Winter's chilling blasts invade. 

And damp th' enlivening flame 

Then all tlie jocund scene declines. 

Nor woods nor meads delight ; 
The drooping tribe in secret pines. 

And mourns th' unwelcome sight. 

Go, blissful warblers ! timely wise, 

Th' instructive moral tell ; 
Nor thou their meaning lays despise. 

My charming Annabelle ! 

Old John Dunton's " British ApoUo" 
sings a question and answer: 

Why, Valentine's a day to choose 
A mistress, and our freedom lose ? 
May I my reason interpose. 
The question with an answer close? 
To imitate we have a mind, 
And couple like the winged kind. 

Further on, in the same miscellany, is 
another question and answer : 

" Question. In chusing valentines (ac- 
cording to custom) is not the party chu- 
sing (be it man or woman) to make a 
present to the party chosen ? 

" Ansiver. We think it more proper tc 
say, draioing of valentines, since the 
most customary way is for each to take 
his or her lot. And chance cannot be 
termed choice. According to this me 



thod, the obligations are equal, and there- 
fore it was formerly the custom mutually 
lo present, but now it is customary only 
for the gentlemen." 

This draiviuff of valentines is remark- 
ed in Poor Robin's Almanac for 1676, 
under St. Valentine's day : 

" Now Andrew, Antho- 
ny, and William, 
For Valentines ttraw 
Prue, Kate, Jilian " 
Misson, a learned traveller, who died 
in England about 1721, describes the 
amusing practices of his lime : — " On 
the eve of the 14th of February, St- 

upon a young man which she calls hers. 
By this means each has two valentines • 
but the man sticks faster to the valentine 
that is fallen to him, than to the valen 
tine to whom he is fallen. Fortune hav- 
ing thus divided the company into so 
many couples, the valentines give balls 
and treats to their mistresses, wear their 
billets several days upon their bosoms or 
sleeves, and this little sport often ends in 
love. This ceremony is practised differ- 
ently in different counties, and accord- 
ing to the freedom or severity of madam 
Valentine. There is another kind of 
valentine, which is the first young man 

Valentine's day, the young folks in Eng- or woman that chance throws in your 

.and and Scotland, by a very ancient 
custom, celebrate a little festival. An 
equal number of maids and bachelors 
get together, each writes their true or 
some feigned name upon separate billets. 

way in the street, or elsewhere, on that 

In some places, at this time, and more 
particulaMy in London, the lad's valen- 
tine is the first lass he sees in the morn- 

which they roll up, and draw by way of ing, who is not an inmate of the house , 

lots, the maids taking the men's billets, the lass's valentine is the first youth she 

and the men the maids' ; so that each of sees. Gay mentions this usage on St. 

the young men lights upon a girl that he Valentine's day : he makes a rustic 

calls his valentine, and each of the girls housewife remind her good man, — 

I early rose just at the break of day, 

Before the sun had chas'd the stars away ; 

A field I went, amid the morning dew 

To milk my kine,(for so should house-wives do,) 

Thee first I spied, and the first swain we see 

In spite of Fortune shall our true-love be. 

So also in the " Connoisseur" there is 
mention of the same usage preceded by 
certain mysterious ceremonies the night 
Defore ; one of these being almost certain 
to ensure an indigestion is therefore likely 
to occasion a dream favourable to the 
dreamer's waking wishes. — " Last Friday 
was Valentine's day, and, the night before, I 
got five bay-leaves,and pinned four of them 
to the four corners of my pillow, and the 
fifth to the middle; and then, if I dreamt 
of my sweetheart, Betty said we should 
be married before the year was out. But 
to make it more sure, I boiled an egg 
hard, and took out the yolk, and filled it 
with salt ; and when I went to bed, ate 
it, shell and all, without speaking or 
drinking after it. We also wrote our 
lovers' names upon bits of paper, and 
rolled them up in clay, and put them 
into water : and the first that rose up was 
to be our valentme. Would you think 
it, Mr. Blossom was my man. T lay 
a-bed and shut my eyes all the morning, 
till he came to our house ; for I would 
not have seen another man before him 
lor all the wc rid." 

Shakspeare bears witness to the cus- 
tom of looking for your valentine, or de- 
siring to be one, through poor Ophelia's 

Good morrow ! 'tis St. Valentine's dav 

All in the morning betime, 
And I a maid at your window, 
To be your valentine ! 

Sylvanus Urban, in 1779, was informed 
by Kitty Curious, that on St. Valentine's 
day in that year, at a little obscure vil- 
lage in Kent, she found an odd kind of 
sport. The girls from five or six to 
eighteen years old were assembled in a 
ciowd, burning an uncouth ffigy which 
they called a •* holly boy, and which 
they had stolen from the iDoys; while in 
another part of the village the boys 
were burning what they called an " ivy 
girl," which they had stolen from the 
girls. The ceremony of each burning 
was accompanied by acclamations, huz- 
zas, and other noise. Kitty inquired the 
meaning of this from the oldest people 
in the piace, but she could learn no more 
than that it had always been a sport 3< 
that seasou. 

Vol. I. 



A correspondent communicates to the bourhood a similar boon. This was done, 

Euery-DaJ/iiooA a singular custom, which says our correspondent, as an emblem 

prevailed many years since in the west of that the owl being the bird of wisdom, 

England. Three single young men went could influence the feathered race to enter 

out together before daylight on St. Valen- the net of love as mates on that day, 

tine's day, with a clapnet to catch an old whereon both single lads and maidens 

owl and two sparrows in a neighbouring should be reminded that happiness could 

barn. If they were successful, and could alone be secured by an early union, 

bring the birds to the inn without injury On this ancient festival, it was formerly 

before the females of the house had risen, the custom for men to make presents tf 

they were rewarded by the hostess with 
three pots of purl in honour of St. Valen- 
tine, and enjoyed the privilege of de- 
manding at any other house in the neigh- 

The day Samt Valentine, 
When maids are brisk, and at the break of day 
Start up and turn their pillows, curious all 
To know what happy swain the fates provide 
A mate for life. Then follows thick discharge 
Of true-love knots and sonnets nicely penned. 

the women. In Scotland these valentin: 
gifts were reciprocal, as indeed they are 
still in some parts. 
Hurdis calls this 

St. Valentine is the lover's saint. Not 
that lovers have more superstition than 
other people, but their imaginings are 
more. As it is fabled that Orpheus 
'* played so well, he moved old Nick ;" so 
it is true that Love, " cruel tyrant,'' moves 
the veriest brute. Its influence renders 
the coarsest nature somewhat interesting. 
A being of this kind, so possessed, is al- 
most as agreeable as a parish cage with 
an owl inside ; you hear its melancholy 
tee-whit tee-who, and wonder how it 
got there. Its place of settlement be- 
comes a place of sentiment ; nobody can 
liberate the starveling, and it will stay 
there lis mural notes seem so many 
calls for pity, which are much abated on the 
recoilection,that there are openings enough 
for its escape. The " tender passion" in 
the two mile an Iiour Jehu of an eight- 
horse waggon, puzzles him mightily. He 
" sighs and drives, sighs and drives, and 
drives and sighs again," till the approach 
of this festival enables him to buy •' a va- 
lentine," with a " halter" and a " couple 
o' hearts" transfixed by an arrow in the 
form of a weathercock, inscribed 

" I'll be yours, if you'll be mine, 
I am your pleasing Valentine." 

This he gets his name written under by 
the shopkeeper, and will be quite sure that 
it is his name, before he walks after his 
waggon,which he has left to go on, because 
neither that nor his passion can brook 
delay. After he is out of the town, he 
looks behind him, lest any body should see, 
and for a mile or two on the road, ponders 

on the " two hearts made one," as a most 
singular device, and with admired devo- 
tion. He then puts it in the trusty pocket 
under his frock, which holds tlie waggon 
bill, and flogs his horses to quicken their 
pace towards the inn, where " she," who is 
" his heart's delight," has been lately pro- 
moted to the rank of under kitchen-maid, 
vice her who resigned, on being called 
" to the happy estate of matrimony" by 
a neighbouring carter. He gives her the 
mysterious paper in the yard, she receives 
it with a " what be this ?" and with a 
smack on the lips, and a smack from the 
whip on the gown. The gods have made 
him poetical, and, from his recollection oi 
a play he saw at the statute-fair, he tells 
her that "love, like a worm in the mud, 
has played upon his Lammas cheek" ever 
since last Lammas-tide, and she knows 
it has, and that she's his valentine. Witf 
such persons and with nature, this is the 
season of breaking the ice. 

St. Valentine, be it repeated, is the 
saint of all true lovers of every degree,, 
and hence the letters missive to the fair, 
from wooers on hisfestival,bear his name. 
Brand thinks " one of the most elegam 
jeu-d'esprits on this occasion," is one 
wherein an admirer reminds his mistress 
of the choice attributed by the legend 
to the choristers of the air on this d; y, 
and inquires of her — 

Shall only you and I forbear 
To meet and make a happy pair ? 
Shall we alone delay t-o live '! 
This day an age of bliss may give. 



Iiut, ah ! when 1 the proffer 
Still coyly you refuse to take ; 
My heart I dedicate in vain, 
The too mean present you disdaia. 

Yet since the solemn time allows 
To choose the object of our vows ; 
Boldly I dare profess my flame, 
Proud to be yours by any name. 

A better might have been selected from 
the " Magazine of Magazines," the 
" Gentleman's," wherein Mr. Urban has 
sometimes introduced the admirers of la- 
dies to the admirers of antiqmties — under 
which class ladies never come. Thence, 
ever and anon, as from some high barbi- 
can or watchtower old, " songs of loves 
and maids forsaken," have afoused the 
contemplation from " facts, fancies, and 
recollections" regarding other tmies, to 
lovers " sighing like furnace" in our own. 
Through Sylvanus, nearly a century ago, 
there was poured this 

Invocation of St. Valentine. 
Haste, friendly Saint .' to my relief, 
]\Iy heart is stol'n, help ! stop the thief! 
My rifled breast I search'd with care, 
And found Eliza lurking there. 

Away she started from my view. 
Yet may be caught, if thou pursue ; 
INor need I to describe her strive — 
'J'lie fairest, dearest maid alive ! 

Seize her — yet treat the nymph divine 
With gentle us.ige, Valentine ! 
Then, tell her, she, for what was done, 
Must bring my heart, and give her own. 

So pleasant, so descriptive an illustra- 
tion of the present custom, requires a 
companion equally amiable; 


Mark'd you her eye's resistless glance, 
That does the enraptur'd soul entrance 1 
Mark'd you that dark blue orb unfold 
V^olumes of bliss as yet untold? 
And felt you not, as I now feel. 
Delight no tongue could e'er reveal 1 

Mark'd you her cheek that blooms and 

A living emblem of the rose ? 
Mark'd you her vernal lip that breathes 
The balmy fragrance of its leaves ] 
And felt you not, as I now feel. 
Delight no tongue can e'er reveal 1 

Mark'd you her artless smiles that speak 
The language written on her cheek, 
Where, bright as morn, and pure as dew. 
The bosom's thoughts arise to view 1 
And felt you not, as I now feel. 
Delight no toigue could e'er reveal 1 

Mark'd you her face, and did not there. 
Sense, softness, sweetness, all appear ! 
Mark'd you her form, and saw not you 
A heart and mind as lovely too ] 
And felt you not, as I now feel. 
Delight no tongue could e'er reveal ? 

Mark'd you all this, and you have known 
The treasured raptures that I own ; 
Mark'd you all this, and you like me, 
Have wandered oft her shade to see, 
For you have felt, as I now feel. 
Delight no tongue could e'er reveal ! 
High Wycombe. 

Every lady will bear witness that the 
roll of valentine poesy is interminable ; 
and it being presumed that few would 
object to a peep in the editor's budget, he 
ofiers a little piece, written, at the desire 
of a lady, under an engraving, which re- 
presented a girl fastening a letter to the 
neck of a pigeon : — 


" Va, porter cet ecrit \ I'objet de mon coeur 1" 

Outstrip the winds my courier dove I 

On pinions fleet and free, 
And bear this let-ter to my love 

Who's far away from me. 

It bids him mark thy plume whereon 

The changing colours range ; 
But warns him that my peace is gone 

If he should also change. 

It tells him thou return'st again 

To her who sets thee free ; 
And O ! it asks the truant, when 

He'll thus resemble thee \ 

Lastly, from " Sixty-five Poems and 
Sonnets," Sic. recemly published, he ven- 
tures to extract one not less deserving the 
honour of perusal, than either that he has 
presented :— 


No tales of love to you I send, 

No hidden flame discover, 
I glory in the name of friend. 

Disclaiming that of lover. 
And now, while each fond sighing youth 
Repeats his vows of love and truth. 
Attend to this advice of mine — 
With caution choose a Valentinh. 

Heed not the fop, who loves himself, 
Nor let the rake your love obtain ; 
Choose not the miser for his pelf, 

The drunkard he^^d with cold disdain ; 
The profligate with caution shun. 
His I ace of ruin soon is run : 
To none jf these your heart incline. 
Nor choose from them a V.* Lr.N7 ik£ 



But should some generous youth appear, 

Whose honest mind is void of art, 
Who shall liis Maker's laws revere, 

And serve him with a willing heart ; 
Who owns fair Virtue for his guide, 
Nor from her precepts turns aside ; 
To him at once your heart resign, 
And bless your faithful Valentine. 

Though in this wilderness below 

You still imperfect bliss shall find, 
Yet such a friend will share each woe. 
And bid you be to Heaven reslgn'd : 
While Faith unfolds the radiant prize, 
And Hope still points beyond the skies, 
At life's dark storms you'll not repine. 
But bless the day of Valentine. 

IFit at a pinch. 

A gentleman who left his snuffljox at 

a friend's on St. Valentine's Eve, 1825, 

received it soon after his return home in 

an envelope, sealed, and superscribed — 

To J E , Esq. 

Dear Sir, 

I've just found proof enough, 
You are ?iot worth a pinch of snuff; 
Receive the proof, seal'd up with care, 
And extract from it, that you are. 
Valentine, 1825 * 


Sir William Blackstone died on the 
i4th of February, 1780. He was born at 
the house of his father, a silkman, in 
Cheapside, London, on the 10th of July, 
1723 ; sent to the Charter-house in 1730 ; 
entered Pembroke-college, Cambridge, 
in 1738; of the Middle Temple, 1741; 
called to the bar in 1746; elected re- 
corder of Wallingford in 1749; made 
doctor of civil law in 1750; elected 
Vinerian professor of common law in 
1 758 ; returned a representative to Par- 
liament in 1761 ; married in 1761 ; be- 
came a justice of the court of Common 
Pleas in 1770. In the course of his life 
he filled other ofifices. He was just and 
benevolent in all his relations, and, on 
the judicial seat, able and impartial. In 
English literature and jurisprudence he 
holds a distinguished rank for his " Com- 
mentaries on the Laws of England." 
This work originateil in the legal lectures 
he commenced in 1753 : the first volume 
was published in 1759, and the remain- 
ing three in the four succeeding years. 
Through these his name is popular, and 
so will remain while law exists. The 
work is not for the lawyer alone, it is for 
every body. It is not so praiseworthy to 
be learned, as it is disgraceful to bs igno 

rant of the laws which regulate liberty 
and property. The absence of all inform- 
ation in some men when serving upon 
juries and coroners' inquests, or as con- 
stables, and in parochial offices, is scan- 
dalous to themselves and injurious to 
their fellow men. The " Commentaries" of 
Blackstone require only common capacity 
to understand. Wynne's " Eunomus " 
is an excellent introduction to Blackstone, 
if any be wanting. With these two 
works no man can be ignorant of his 
rights or obligations ; and, indeed, the 
" Commentaries" are so essential, that 
he who has not read them has no claim 
to be considered qualified for the exercise 
of his puljlic duties as an Englishman. 
He is at liberty, it is true, for the law 
leaves him at liberty, to assume the cha- 
racter he may be called on to bear in 
common with his fellow-citizens ; but, 
with this liberty, he is only more or les« 
than a savage, as he is more than a savage 
by his birth in a civilized country, and 
less than a savage in the animal instinct, 
which teaches that self-preservation is the 
first law of nature ; and still further is he 
less, because, beside the safety of others, 
it may fall to him, in this state of igno 
rauce, to watch and ward the safety of the 
commonwealth itself. 

Blackstone, on making choice of his 
profession, wrote an elegant little poem, 
entitled " The Latvyer^s Farewell to his 
Nrtrse." It is not more to be admired 
for ease and grace, than for the strong 
feeling it evinces in relinquishing the 
pleasures of poesy and art, and parting 
for ever from scenes wherein he had hap- 
pily spent his youthful days. Its conclu- 
sion describes his anticipations — ■ 

Lost to the field and torn from you — 
Farewell ! a long — a last adieu ! 
Me wrangling courts and stubborn law 
To smoke and crowds, and cities draw j 
There selfish faction rules the day, 
And pride and av'rice throng the way; 
Diseases taint the murky air. 
And midnight conflagrations glare : 
Loose revelry and riot bold 
In frighted streets their orgies hold; 
Or when in silence all is drowned. 
Fell murder walks her lonely round 
No room for peace — no room for you 
Adieu, celestial nymph, adieu f 


Its origin and progress may be trnced 
in the Tree engraved on the opposite 






1 . Tlie root of the engraved Tree exhibits 

a diversity of suits and actions for 
the remedy of different wrongs. 

2. The trunk shows the growth of a suit, 

stage by stage, until its conclusion. 

3. The branches from each stage show 

the proceedings of the plaintiff on 
one side, and the proceedings of the 
defendant on the other. 

4. The leaves of each branch show certain 

collateral proceedings whereby the 
suit is either advanced or suspended. 

5. Supposing the form of action suitable 

to the case, and no stay of proceed- 
ings, the suit grows, on the " sure 
and firm set earth " of the law, into a 
" goodly tree," and, attaining to 
execution against either the plaintiff 
or the defendant, terminates in con- 
suming fire. 

A few whimsical miscellanies are sub- 
loined, not derogatory from the import- 
ance or necessity of legislation, but 
amusingly illustrative of legal practice in 
the sinuosities it has acquired during suc- 
cessive stages of desuetude and change. 
Those only who know the law are ac- 
quainted with the modes by which nume- 
rous deformities in its application have 
originated, or the means by which they 
may be remedied ; while all who expe- 
rience that application are astonished at 
its expensiveness, and complain of it with 

A legal practitioner is said to have de- 
livered a bill containing several charges 
of unmerciful appearance, to a client, who 
was a tailor; and the tailor, who had 
made a suit of clothes for his professional 
adviser, is said to have sent him the fol- 
lowing bill by way of set-off. 

George Grip, Esq. 

Dr. to Samuel Smart. 

£. s. d. 

Attending you, in conference, con- 
cerning your proposed Suit, con- 
ferring thereon when you could 
not finally determine 6 8 

Attending you again thereon, when 
found you prepared, and taking 
measures accordingly 6 8 

Entering 3 4 

Instructioua and warrant to woollen- 
draper. 5 

Carried forward. .. .£1 1 8 

£. s. 

Brought forward. .. . 1 ) 

Copy thereof to keep 2 

Instructions to foreman 6 

Difficulty arising as to proceedings, 

attending him in consultation ..0 6 

Paid fees to woollen-draper 4 18 

Attending him thereon 6 

Perusing his receipt 3 

Attending to file same 3 

Filing 1 

Attending button-maker, instructing 

him 6 

Paid his charges 2 19 

Having received summons to pro- 
ceed, perusing and considering 

same C 

Drawing consent, and copy to keep 4 

Postage 1 

Copy order thereon and entering . . 3 
Appointing consultation as to further 

proceedings, and attending same 13 
Foreman having filed a demurrer, 

preparing argument against same 6 
Attending long argument on demur- 
rer, when same overruled 10 

Perusing foreman's plea 6 

Excepting to same 6 

Entering exceptions 3 

Perusing notice of motion to remove 
suit, and preparing valid objec- 
tions to lay before you 10 

Same being overruled, consent there- 
to, on an undertaking 6 

Expenses on removal of suit — paid 

by you at the time 

Writing you my extreme dissatisfac- 
tion on finding the suit removed 
into the King's Bench, and that 
I should move the court, when 
you promised to obtain a Rule as 
soon as term commenced, and 

attend me thereon 10 

Conferring with you, in presence of 
your attendant, at my house, on 
the first day of term, when you 
succeeded in satisfying me that 
you were a Gerit. one, &c, and an 
honourable man, and expressed 
great dissatisfaction at the pro 
ceedings had with the suit while 
out of my hands ; receiving your 
instructions to demand of your 
Uncle that same should return to 
me, on my paying him a lien he 
claimed thereon, and received 
from you his debenture for that 

purpose 13 

Perusing same, and attending him 
in St. George's-fields therewith 

and thereon 10 

Paid him, principal and interest .. 2 10 

Carr'-d forward. . . .^18 18 



Brought forward. ... 18 
In consideration of circumstances, 

no charge for receiving suit back. 
Perusing letter unexpectedly re- 
ceived from you, dated from your 
own house, respecting short notice 

of trial 

Attending you thereon 

Attending at Westminster several 
mornings to try the suit, when at 

last got same on 2 

Paid fees 

Fee to porter 

It being determined that the suit 
should be put into a special case, 
drawing special instructions to 

Boxmaker for same 13 

Attending him therewith and thereon 6 
Paid him his fee for special case . . 2 2 

Paid his clerk's fee 2 

Considering case, as settled 6 

Attending foreman for his consent 
to same, when he promised to 

determine shortly 

Attending him again thereon to ob- 
viate his objections, and obtained 

his consent with difficulty 

Drawing bill of costs 15 

Fair copy for Mr. to peruse 

and settle 9 7 








Attending him therewith 

Fee to him settling 

Attending him for same 

Perusing and considering same, as 


Attending ]Mr. again sug- 
gesting amendments 

Fee to him on amending 

Perusing same as amended 

Fair copy, with amendments, to keep 


Fair copy for service 

Thirty-eight various attendances to 

serve same 6 

Service thereof 

Drawing memorandum of service . . 

Attending to enter same 

Entering same 

Attending you concerning same . . 
Accepted service of order to attend 
at the theatre, and gave consent . 

Retaining fee at box-office 

Service of order on box-keeper .... 
Self and wife, with six children, 
two of her cousins, her brother, 
and his son, two of my brothers, 
my sister-in-law, three nephews, 
four nieces, each attending for 
four hours and a half to see the 
Road to Ruin, and the Beggars' 
Opera, eighty-five hours and a 

6 & 

6 8 

6 8 

Brouf;lit forward. ... 39 
half, at 3s. 'id. per hour — very 

moderate 17 

Coach hire there and back 

Attending you to acquaint you with 
particulars in general, and con- 
cerning settlement particularly.. 

Instructions for receipt 

Drawing receipt 

Vacation fee 1 

Refreshing fee 

Perusing receipt, and amending same 

Fair copy to keep 

Engrossing on stamp 

Paid duty and paper 

Fee on ending 2 

Letters and messengers 

». d 
6 10 



13 4 


£63 9 

To numerous, various, and a great 
variety of divers, and very many 
letters, messages, and attendances 
to, from, on, and upon, you and 
your agents and others, pending a 
negotiation for settlement, far 
too numerous to be mentioned ; 
and an infinite deal of trouble, too 
troublesome to trouble you with, 
or to be expressed ; without more 
and further trouble, but which 
you must, or can, or shall, or 
may know, or be informed of — 
what you please 

Carried forward . . . .£39 5 10 

Item in a Bill of Costs 
Attending A in conference concerning 
the best mode to indemnify B against C's 
demand for damages, in consequence of 
his driving D's cart against E's house, 
and thereby breaking the window of a 
room occupied by F's family, and cutting 
the head of G, one of his children, which 
H, the surgeon, had pronounced dan- 
gerous, and advising on the steps neces- 
sary for such indemnity. Attending 
I accordingly thereon, who said he could 
do nothing without the concurrence of his 
brother J, who was on a visit to his 
friend K, but who afterwards consented 
thereto, upon having a counter-indemnity 
from Ij. Taking instructions for, and 
writing the letter accordingly, but he 
refused to accede thereto, in consequence 
of misconduct in some of the parties 
towards his distant relation M, because 
he had arrested N, who being in custody 
of O, the officer, at P's house, was unable 
to prevail upon P and R to become bail. 
Attending in consequence upon S, the 



theriff, when he said, if he received an 
undertaking to give a bail-bond at the 
return of the wnt, the defendant should 
Ue discharged. Attending T for under- 
taking accordingly, conferring thereon ; 
but he declined interfering without the 
concurrence of V, to whom he was largely 
indebted, in whose hands he had lodged 
several title-deeds as a collateral security, 
and who, it appeared, had sent the deeds 
to his attorney U, for the purpose of pre- 
paring a mortgage to W, in trust, for se- 
curing his demand, and also of a debt due 
to X. Attending afterwards on A's 
clerk Y, communicating the result of our 
numerous applications, and conferring 
with him thereon, when he at length in- 
formed me that Z had settled the busi- 

Legal Recreations. 

" To him that goes to law, nine things 
are requisite : 1. A good deal of money — 
2. A good deal of patience — 3. A good 
cause — 4. A good attorney — 5. Good 
counsel — 6. Good evidence — 7. A good 
jury — 8. A good judge — and lastly, good 

" Reason is the life of the law, nay, 
the common law itself is nothing else but 

If a man says of a counsellor of law. 
Thou art a dajfa-doivn-dilly, an action 
lies. So adjudged in Scaccario, and 
agreed per totam curiam. — 1 Vin. Abb. 

He hath no more law than Mr. C.\i bull. 
These words being spoken of an attorney, 
the court inclined that they were action- 
able, and that the plaintiff should have 
judgment, though it was objected that the 
plaintiff had not declared that C. had 
a bull.— Siderfin, 327, pi. 8. Pasch. 
19 Car. II. Baker v. Morfue. Tlie chief 
justice was of opinion, that if C. had no 
bull, the scandal was the greater. And 
it was pronounced per curiam in the same 
case, that to say of a lawyer, that he has 
no more laiv than a goose, has been ad- 
judged actionable. — Sid. 127, pi. 8. — 
There is quaere added as to the saying. 
He hath no more law than the man in the 
moon (lb. 2 Kib. 209) ; the law, doubt- 
less, contemplating the possibility of there 
being a man in the moon, and of his 
being a good lawyer. 

Ml/ lord chief baron cannot hear of 
one ear, adjudged actionable, there being 
a colloquium of his administration of jus- 

tice. But not so if there had been no 
discourse of his justice. — 1 Vin. Ab. 446. 

Adjudged, that the death ot a parson 
is a non-residency, within 13 EUz. c . 20, 
so as to avoid his leases. Mott v. Kales, 
Crok. Eliz. 123 

Eden and Whalley's case ; — " One 
Eden confessed himself guilty of multipli- 
cation, and that he had practised the 
making of quintessence, and ihe philoso- 
pher's stone, by which all metals might 
be turned into gold and silver ; and also 
accused Whalley, now a prisoner in the 
Tower, of urging and procuring him to 
practise this art ; and that Whalley had 
laid out money in red wine and other 
things necessary for the said art. And, 
because this offence is only felony, Eden, 
the principal, was pardoned by the ge- 
neral pardon ; but Whalley, who was 
but accessary in this case, was ex- 
cepted as one of those who were in tlie 
Tower. The question was moved, whe- 
ther Whalley should be discharged ; — 
Quaere, the statute of 5 Hen. IV^. 4, 
which enacts, * that none should use to 
multiply gold or silver, nor use the craft 
of multiplication ; and if any the same 
do, that he incur the pain of felony in 
this case.' — Quaere — Whether there can 
be any accessary in this new felony ? — 
1 Dyer, 87, 6, Easter Term, 7 Ed. VI. 
This statute was repealed by the stat. of 
1 Will. & Mary." 

la the case oi monopolized cards, there 
was cited a commission in the time of 
Henry V. directed to three friars and two 
aldermen of London, to inquire whethei 
the philosopher's stone was feasible, who 
returned it was, and upon this a patent 
was made out for them to make it.— 
Moore, 675 ; Dancey's case 

According to the Asiatic Researches, a 
very curious mode of trying the title of 
land is practised in Hindostan : — Two 
holes are dug in the disputed spot, in 
each of which the plaintiff and defendant's 
lawyers put one of their legs, and remain 
there until one of them is tired, or com- 
plains of being stung by the insects, in 
which case his client is defeated. In this 
country it is the client, and not the lawyer, 
who puts his /oo< into it. 

Professional practice is frequently the 
subject of theatrical exhibition. " Giovanni 
in London'' has a scene before going to 
trial, with the following 




F% St Lawyer, Second I,awyer, Giovanni. 

Air — " Soldier, prve me one Pound." 

First Lawyer. 

Giovanni, give me one pound. 

Second Lawyer. 
Giovanni, give me two. 

First Lawyer. 
Trial it comes on to-day ; 

Second Lawyer. 
And nothing we can do. 

First Lawyer. 
You must give a fee, 
Both to me — 

Secoiid Lawyer, 
And me. 

Both LMwyers. 
For, oh! the law's a mill 

that without grist will never go. 

Lawyer, there is one pound ; 

(to second Lawyer) 
Lawyer, there are two ; 

(to first Lawyer) 
And "ritv I am without a pound, 
^ to the law and you. 
jf, oh ! I feel the law 
Has clapp'd on me its paw ; 
And, oh ! the law's a mill 

that without grist will never go. 

the heathens ; aiid it is observed by 
Brand, that on Shrove Monday it was a 
custom with the boys at Eton ta write 
verses concerning Bacchus, in all kinds 
of metre, which were afhxed to the col- 
lege doors, and that Bacchus' verses 
" are still written and put up on this day." 
The Eton practice is doubtless a remnant 
of the catholic custom. 

CoIIop iifloutrap. 

The Monday befure Shrove Tuesday 
IS so called because it was the last day of 
flesh-eating before Lent, and our ancestors 
cut their fresh meat into coUops, or steaks, 
for salting or hanging up till Lent was 
over ; and hence, in many places, it is 
Still a custom to have eggs and coUops, 
or slices of bacon, at dinner on this day. 
The Rev. Mr. Bowles communicates to 
his friend Mr. Brand, that the boys in the 
neighbourhood of Salisbury go about be- 
fore Shrove-tide singing these lines : 

Shrove-tide is nigh at hand, 
And I am come a shroving ; 
Pray, dame, something, 
An apple or a dumpling. 
Or a piece of Truckle cheese 
Of your own making. 
Or a piece of pancake. 

Polydore Virgil afRrms of this season 
and its delicacies, that it sprung from the 
feasts of Bacchus, which were celebrated 
in Rome with rejoicmgs and festivity at 
the same period. This, therefore, is an- 
othei adoption of the Romish church from 


Yellow Crocus. Croats Mces'iacus. 
Dedicated to St. Valentine 

#el)niar|) 15. 

Sts. Faustbius and Jovita, a. d. 121. 
St. Sigefride, or Sigfrid, of Sweden, Bp. 

K. D. 1002. 


It is communicated to the Every-Day 
Book by a correspondent, Mr. R. N. B — , 
that at Hoddesdon in Hertfordshire, the 
old curfew-bell, which was anciently 
rung in that town for the extinction and 
relighting of " all fire and candle light '' 
still exists, and has from time immemorial 
been regularly rang on the morning of 
Shrove Tuesday at four o'clock, after 
which hour the inhabitants are at liberty 
to make and eat pancakes, until the bell 
rings agam at eight o'clock at night. He 
says, that this custom is observed so 
closely, that after that hour not a pancake 
remains in the town. 

The Curffw. 
I hear the far-off curfew sound, 
Over some wide-water'd shore, 
Swinging slow with sullen roar. 


That the curfew-bell came in with Wil- 
liam the Conqueror is a common, but 
erroneous, supposition. It is true, that 
by one of his laws he ordered the people 
to put out their fires and lights, and go to 
bed, at the eight-o'clock curfew-bell ; but 
Henry says, in his " History of Great Bri- 
tain," that there is sufficient e\ idence of 
the curfew having prevailed in different 
parts of Europe at that period, as a pre- 
caution against fires, which were frequent 
and fatal, when so many houses were 
built of wood. It is related too, in 
Peshall's " History of Oxford," that Alfred 
the Great ordered the inhabitants of that 
city to cover their fires on the ringing of 
the bell at Carfax every night at eight 



o'clock ; " whicl) custom is observed to 
this day, aixi the bell as constantly rings 
at eight as Great Tom tolls at nine." 
Wherever the curfew is now rung in 
England, it is usually at four in the 
morning, and eight in the evening, as at 
Hoddesdon on Shrove Tuesday. 

Concerning the curfew, or the in- 
strament used to cover the fire, there is 
a communication from the late Mr. 

Francis Grose, the well remembered an- 
tiquary, in the " Antiquarian Repertory" 
(vol. i.) published by Mr. Ed. Jefiery. Mr. 
Grose enclosed a letter from the Rev. F. 
Gostling, author of the " Walk through 
Canteibury," with a drawing of the uten- 
sil, from which an engraving is made in 
that work, and which is given here on 
account of its singularity. No other re 
presentation of the curfew exists. 

" This utensil," says the Antiquarian 
Repertory, " is called a curfew, or couvre- 
feu, from its use, which is that of sud- 
denly putting out a fire : the method of 
applying it was thus ; — the wood and 
embers were raked as close as possible to 
the back of the hearth, and then the cur- 
few was put over them, the open part 
placed close to the back of the chimney ; 
by this contrivance, the air being almost 
totally excluded, the fire was of course 
extinguished. This curfew is of copper, 
rivetted together, as solder would have 
been liable to melt with the heat. It is 
10 inches high, 16 inches wide, and 9 
inches deep. Th« Rev. Mr. Gostling, to 
■whom it belongs, says it has been in his 
family for time immemorial, and was al 
•ways called the curfew. Some others of 
this kind are still remaining in Kent and 
Sussex." It is proper to add to this account, 
that T. Row, in the " Gentlemar's Maga- 
zine," because no mention is made " of any 
particular implement for extinguishing 
the fire in any writer," is inclined to 
think " there never was any such." Mr. 
Fosbroke in the " Encyclopa;dia of An- 

tiquities" says, " an instrument of copper 
presumed to have been made for covering 
the ashes, but of uncertain use, is en- 
graved." It is in one of Mr. F.'s plates. 

On T. Row's remark, who is also face- 
tious on the subject, it may be observed, 
that his inclination to think there never 
was any such implement, is so far from 
being warrantable, if the fact be even cor- 
rect, that it has not been mentioned by 
any ancient writer, that the fair inference 
is the converse of T. Row's inclination. 
Had he consulted "Johnson's Dictionary," 
he would have found the curfew itself 
explained as "a cover for a fire ; a fire- 
plate. — Bacon." So that if Johnson is 
credible, and his citation of authorities is 
unquestionable. Bacon, no very modern 
writer, is authority for the fact that there 
was such an implement as the curfew. 

Football at Kingston. 

Mr. P., an obliging contributor, fur- 
nishes the Every-Day Book witli a letter 
from a Frknd, descriptive of a custom on 
this day m the vicinity of London 



Respected Fiif.n(', 

Having some business which called me 
to Kingston-upon-Tliames on the day 
called Shrove Tuesday, I got upon the 
Hampton-court coach to go there. We 
had not gone above four miles, when the 
coachman exclaimed to one of the pas- 
sengers, " It's Foot-ball day ;" not under- 
standing the term, I questioned him what 
he meant by it ; his answer was, that I 
would see what he meant where I was 
going — Upon entering Teddington, I 
was not a little amused to see all the in- 
habitants securmg the glass of all their 
front windows from the ground to the 
roof, some by placing hurdles before them, 
and some by nailing laths across the 
frames. At Twickenham, Bushy, and 
Hampton-wick, they were all engaged in 
the same way : havmg to stop a few hours 
at Hampton-wick and Kingston, I had 
an opportunity of seeing the whole of the 
custom, which is, to carry a foot-ball from 
door to door and beg money : — at about 
12 o'clock the ball is turned loose, and 
those who can, kick it. In the town of 
Kingston, all the shops are purposely kept 
shut upon that day ; there were several 
balls in the town, and of course several 
parties. I observed some persons of re- 
spectability following the ball : the game 
lasts about four hours, wlien the parties 
retire to the public-houses, and spend the 
money they before collected in refresh- 

I understand the corporation of Kings- 
ton attempted to put a stop to this prac- 
tice, but the judges confirmed the right of 
the game, and it now legally continues, to 
the no small annoyance of some of the 
inhabitants, besides the expense and 
trouble they are put to in securing all 
their windows. 

I was rather surprised that such a cus- 
tom should have existed so near London, 
without my ever before knowing of it. 

From thy respected Friend, 

N S 

Third Month, 1815. J . B. 

Pancakes and Confession. 

As fit — as a paiicake for Shvoie Tiiexday. 


Pancake Day is another name for 
Shrove Tuesday, from the custom of eat- 
ing pancakes on this day, still generally ob- 
served. A writer in the" Gentleman's Ma- 
gazine, 1 790," says, that " Shrive is an old 
Saxon word, of which shrove is a corrup- 
tion, and signifies confession. Hence 
Shrove Tuesday means Confession Tues- 
day, on which day all the people in every 
parish throughout the kingdom, during 
the Romish times, were obliged to con- 
fess their sins, one by one, to their own 
parish priests, in their own parish 
churches ; and that this might be done 
the more regularly, the great bell in every 
parish was rung at ten o''clock, or per- 
haps sooner, tliat it might be heard by all. 
And as the Romish religion has given 
way to a much better, I mean the protest- 
ant religion, yet the custom of ringing 
the great bell in our ancient parish 
churches, at least in some of them, still re- 
mains, and obtains in and about London 
the name of Pancake-hell : the usage o\ 
dining on pancakes or fritters, and such 
like provision, still continues." In " Pas- 
quil's Palinodia, 1634," 4to. it is merrily 
observed that on this day every stomach 

till it can hold no more. 
Is fritter-filled, as well as heart can wish ; 
And every mau and maide doe take their tume, 
And tosse their pancakes up for feare they burne ; 
And all the kitchen doth with laughter sound, 
To see the pancakes fall upon the ground. 

Threshing the Hen. 
This singular custom is almost obso- 
lete, yet it certainly is practised, even 
now, in at least one obscure part of the 
kingdom. A reasonable conjecture con- 

cerning its origin is, that the fowl was a 
delicacy to the labourer, and therefore 
given to him on this festive day, for spcrt 
and food. 

At Shrovetide to shroving, go thresh the fat hen. 
If blindfold can kill her, then give it thy men. 
Maids, fritters and pancakes inough see you make. 
Let slut have one pancake, for company sake. 



So directs Tusser in his " Five Hundred 
Points of Good Husbandry, 1620," 4 to 
Oil tliis his anuotator, " Tusker Redivivus, 
1710," (8vo. June, p. 15,) annexes an 
account of the custom. " The hen is 
hung at a fellow's back, who has also 
some horse bells about him, the rest of 
the fellows are blinded, and have boughs 
in their hands, with which they chase 
this fellow and his hen about some large 
court or small enclosure. The fellow 
with his hen and bells shifting as well as 

he can, they follow the sound, and some- 
times hit him and his hen, other times, ij 
lie can get behind one of them, tliey 
thresh one another well favour'dly ; but 
the jest is, the maids are to blind the fel- 
lows, which they do with their aprons, 
and the cunning baggages will endear 
their sweethearts with a peeping-hole, 
whilst the others look out as sharp to 
hinder it. After this the hen is boil'd 
with bacon, and store of pancakes and 
fritters are made." 


Tusser's annotator, "Redivivus," adds, 
after the hen-threshing. "She that is not- 
ed for lying a-bed long, or any other mis- 
carriage, hath the first pancake presented 
to her, which most commonly falls to the 
dog's share at last, for no one will own it 
their due. Thus were youth encourag'd, 
sham'd, and feasted with very little cost, 
and diWays their feasts were accompani- 
ed ^ith exercise. The loss of which lauda- 

ble custom, is one of the benefits we have 
got by smoking tobacco." Old Tusser 
himself, by a reference, denotes that this 
was a sport in Essex and Suffolk. Mr. 
Brand was informed by a Mr. Jones that, 
when he was a boy in Wales, the hen 
that did not lay eggs before Shrove Tues- 
day was considered useless, and to be on 
that day threshed by a man with a flaiJ ; 
if he killed her he got her for his pajns. 




On Shrove Tuesday, at a certain an- 
cient borough in Stafi'ordshire, a hen was 
set up by its owner to be thrown at by 
himself and his companions, according to 
(he usual custom on that day. This poor 
hen, after many a severe bang, and many 
a broken bone, weltering in mire and 
blood, recovered spirits a little, and to 
tne unspeakable surprise and astonish- 
ment of all the company, just as her late 
master was handling his oaken cudgel to 
fling at her again, opened her mouth and 
said — " Hold thy hand .a moment, hard- 
hearted wretch ! if it be but out of 
curiosity, to hear one of my feathered 
species utter articulate sounds. — What 
art thou, or any of thy comrades, better 
than r, though bigger and stronger, and 
at liberty, while I am tied by the leg? 
What art thou, I say, that I may not 
presume to reason with thee, though thou 
never reasonest with thyself? What 
have I done to deserve the treatment I 
have suffered this day, from thee and thy 

barbarous companions? Whom have I 
ever injured? Did I ever profane the 
name of my creator, or give one moment's 
disquiet to any creature under heaven ^ 
or lie, or deceive, or slander, or rob my 
fellow-creatures ? Did I ever guzzle 
down what should have been for the sup- 
port and comfort (in effect the blood) of a 
wife and innocent children, as thou dost 
every week of thy life ? A little of thy 
superfluous grain, or the sweeping of thy 
cupboard, and the parings of thy cheese^ 
moistened with the dew of heaven, was 
all I had, or desired for my support ; 
while, in return, I furnished thy table 
with dainties. The tender brood, which 
I hatched with assiduity, and all the 
anxiety and solicitude of a humane 
mother, fell a sacrifice to thy gluttony. 
My new laid eggs enriched thy pancakes, 
puddings, and custards ; and all thy most 
delicious fore. And I was ready myself 
at any time, to lay down my life to sup- 
port thine, but the third part of a day. 



Had I been a nun, and a hangman, and 
been commanded by authority to take 
away thy life for a crime that deserved 
death, I would have performed my office 
with reluctance, and with the shortest, 
and the least pain or insult, to thee possi- 
ble. How much more if a wise provi- 
dence had so ordered it, that thou hadst 
been my proper and delicious food, as I 
am thine ? I speak not this to move thy 
compassion, who hast none for thy own 
offspring, or for the wife of thy bosom, 
nor to prolong nay own life, which through 
thy most brutal usage of me, is past 
recovery, and a burden to me; nor yet to 
teach thee humanity for the future. I 
know thee to have neither a head, a 
heart, nor a hand to shov/ mercy ; neither 
brains, nor bowels, nor grace, to hearken 
to reason, or to restrain thee from any 
folly. I appeal from thy cruel and re- 
lentless heart to a future judgment ; cer- 
tainly there will be one sometime, when 
the meanest creature of God shall have 
justice done it, even against proud and 
savage man, its lord ; and surely our cause 
will then be heard, since, at present, we 
have none to judge betwixt us. O, that 
eome good Christian would cause this my 
first, and last speech to be printed, and 
published through the nation. Perhaps 
the legislature may not think it beneath 
them to take our sad case into considera- 
tion. Who can tell but some faint re- 
mains of common sense among the vulgar 
themselves, may be excited by a suffering 
dying fellow-creature's last words, to find 
out a more good-natured exercise for 
their youth, than this which hardens their 
hearts, and taints their morals ? But I 
find myself spent with speaking. And 
now villain, take good aim, let fly thy 
truncheon, and despatch at one manly 
stroke, the remaining life of a miserable 
mortal, who is utterly unable to resist, or 
fly from thee." Alas! he heeded not. 
She sunk down, and died immediately, 
without another blow. Reader, farewell ! 
but learn compassion towards an inno- 
cent creature, that has, at least, as quick 
a sense of pain as thyself. 

This article is extracted from the 
" Gentleman's Magazine," for the year 
1749. It appeals to the feelings and the 
ludgment, and is therefore inserted here, 
lest one reader should need a dissuasive 
against the cruelty of torturing a poor 
animal on Shrove Tuesday. 

Hens were formerly thrown at, as cocks 
are still, in some p. aces. 


This brutal practice on Shrove Tuesday 
is still conspicuous m several parts of the 
kingdom. Brand affirms that it was re« 
tained in many schools in Scotland 
within the last century, and he conjec- 
tures " perhaps it is still in use :" a little 
inquiry on his part would have discovered 
it in English schools. He proceeds to 
observe, that the Scotch schoolmasters 
" were said to have presided at the 
battle, and claimed the run-away cocks, 
called fugees, as their perquisites." To 
show the ancient legitiniacy of the usage, 
he instances a petition in 1 355, from the 
scholars of the school of Ramera to their 
schoolmaster, for a cock he owed them 
upon Shrove Tuesday, to throw sticks at, 
according to the usual custom for their 
sport and entertainment. No decently 
circumstanced person however rugged 
his disposition, from neglect in his child- 
hood, will in our times permit one of his 
sons to take part in the sport. This is a na- 
tural consequence of the influence which 
persons in the higher ranks of life can 
beneficially exercise. Country gentle- 
men threw at the poor cock formerly : 
there is not a country gentleman now 
who would not discourage the shocking 

Strutt says that in some places, it was 
a common practice to put a cock into an 
earthen vessel made for the purpose, and 
to place him in such a position that his 
head and tail might be exposed to view ; 
the vessel, with the bird in it, was then 
suspended across the street, about 12 or 
14 feet from the ground, to be thrown at 
by such as chose to make trial of their 
skill ; twopence was paid for four throws, 
and he who broke the pot, and delivered 
the cock from his confinement, had him 
for a reward. At North Walsham, in 
Norfolk, about 60 years ago, some wags 
put an owl into one of these vessels ; and 
having procured the head and tail of a 
dead cock, they placed them in the same 
position as if they had appertained to a 
living one; the deception was successful ; 
and at last, a labouring man belonging 
to the towr, after several fruitless at- 
tempts, broke the pot, but missed his 
prize; for the owl being set at liberty, 
instantly flew away, to his great astonish- 
ment, and left him nothing more than 
the head and tail of the dead bird, with 
the potsherds, for his money and liis 
trouble ; this ridiculous adventure ex- 



posed Iiini to tlie continual laughter of 
tlie town's people, and obliged him to 
quit the place. 

Shying at Leaden Cocks. 

A correspondent, S. W., says, " It 
strikes me that the game of pitching at 
capons, practised by boys when I was 
young, took its rise from this sport, (the 
throwing at cocks,) indulged in by the 
matured barbarians. The capons were 
«eaden representations of cocks and hens 
pitched at by leaden dumps." 

Another correspondent, whose MS. 
collections are opened to the Every-Day 
Book, has a similar remark in one of his 
common-place books, on the sports of 
boys. He says, " Shying at Cocks. — 
Probably in imitation of the barbarous 
custom of ' shying' or throwing at the 
living animal. Tiie * cock ' was a repre- 
sentation of a bird or a beast, a man, a 
horse, or some device, with a stand pro- 
jecting on all sides, but principally be- 
hind the figure. These were made of 
lead cast in moulds. They were shyed at 
with dumps from a small distance agreed 
upon by the paities, generally regulated 
by the size or weight of the dump, and 
the value of the cock. If the thrower 
overset or knocked down the cock, he 
won it ; if he failed, he lost his dump. 
" Shy for shy. — This was played at by 
two beys, each having a cock placed at 
a certain distance, generally about four 
or five feet asunder, the players standing 
behind their cocks, and throwing alter- 
nately ; a bit of stone or wood was gener- 
ally used to throw with : the cock was 
won by him who knocked it down. 
Cocks and dumps were exposed for sale 
on the butchers' shambles on a small 
boaid, and were the perquisite of the 
apprentices, who made them ; and many 
a pewter plate, and many an ale-house 
pot, were melted at this season for shying 
at cocks, which was as soon as fires were 
lighted in the autumn. These games, 
and all others among the boys of London, 
had their particular times or seasons ; 
and when any game was out, as it was 
termed, it was lawful to steal the thing 
played with ; this was called smugging 
and it was expressed by the boys in a dog- 
grel : viz, 

"Tops are in. Spin 'em agin. 

Tops are out. Smuggin about, 

Tops are iu. Spin 'em agiu. 

Dumps are out, iScc. 

" The fair cock was not allowed to have 
his stand extended behind, moie than hii 
height and half as much more, nor much 
thicker than himself, and he was not to 
extend in width more than his height, 
nor to project over the stand ; but frau- 
dulent cocks were made extending later- 
ally over the side, so as to prevent his 
lying down sideways, and with a long 
stand behind'; the body of the cock was 
made thinner, and the stacid thicker, by 
which means the cock bent upon being 
struck, and it was impossible to knock 
him over." This information may seena 
trifling to some, but it will interest many. 
We all look back with complacency on 
the amusements of our childhood ; and 
" some future Strntt," a century or two 
hence, may find this page, and glean from 
it the important difference between the 
sports of boys now, and those of our 
grandchildren's great grandchildren. 


The cruelty of cock-fighting was a chief 
ingredient of the pleasure which intox- 
icated the people on Shrove Tuesday. 

Cock-fighting was practised by the 
Greeks. Themistocles, when leading his 
troops against the Persians, saw two 
cocks fighting, and roused the courage of 
liis soldiers by pointing out the obstinacy 
with which these animals contended, 
though they neither fought for their coun- 
try, their families, nor their liberty. The 
Persians were defeated ; and the Athenians, 
as a memorial of the victory, and of the 
incident, ordered annual cock-fighting in 
the presence of the whole people. Beck- 
mann thinks it existed even earlier. 
Pliny says cock-fighting was an annual 
exhibition at Pergamus. Plato laments 
that not only boys, but men, bred fighting 
birds, and employed their whole time in 
similar idle amusements. Beckmann men 
tions an ancient gem in sir William IJa 
milton's collection, whereon two cocks 
are fighting, while a mouse carries away 
the ear of corn for which they contest : 
" a happy emblem," says Beckmann, "of 
our law-suits, in which the greater part 
of the property in dispute falls to the 
lawyers." The Greeks obtained their 
fighting cocks from foreign countries; ac- 
cording to Beckmann, the English im- 
port the strongest and best of theirs from 
abroad, especially from Germany. 

Cuesar mentions the English cocks m 
bis " Commentaries ;" but the earliest 



notice of cock-fighting in England is by 
Fitz-Stephens, who died in 1191. He 
mentions this as one of the amusements 
ot the Londoners, together with the game 
f)t foot-ball. The whole passage is worth 
transcribing. " Yearly at Shrove-tide, 
the boys of every school brmg fighting- 
cocks to their masters, and all the fore- 
noon is spent at school, to see these cocks 
fight together. After dinner, all the youth 
of the city goeth to play at the ball m the 
fields ; the scholars of every study have 
their balls ; the practisers also of all the 
trades have every one their ball in their 
hands. Tlie ancienter sort, the fathers, 
and the wealthy citizens, come on horse- 
back, to see these youngsters contendinjj 
at their sport, with whom, in a manner, 
they participate by motion ; stirring their 
own natural heat in the view of the active 
youth, with wliose mirth and liberty they 
seem to communicate." 

Cock-fighting was prohibited in Eng- 
land under Edward III. and Henry VIII., 
and even later : yet Henry himself in- 
dulged his cruel nature by instituting 
cock-fights, and even James I. took great 
delight in them ; and within our own 
time, games have been fought, and at- 
tendance solicited by public advertise- 
ment, at the Royal Cock-pit, Whitehall, 
which Henry VIII. built. 

Beckmann says, that as the cock roused 
Peter, so it was held an ecclesiastical duty 
" to call the people to repentance, or at 
least to church ;" and therefore, " in the 
ages of ignorance, the clergy frequently 
called themselves the cocks of the Al- 

Old Shrove-tide Revels, 

On Shrove Tuesday, according to an 
old author, " men ate and drank, and 
abandoned themselves to every kind of 
sportive foolery, as if resolved to have 
their fill of pleasure before they were to 

The preparing of bacon, meat, and the 
making of savoury black-puddings, for 
good cheer after the coming Lent, pre- 
ceded the day itself, whereon, besides 
domestic feasting and revelry, with dice 
and card-playing, there was immensity ol 
mumming. The records of Norwich tes- 
tify, that in 1440, one John Gladman, 
who is there called " a man who was ever 
trewe and feythfull to God and to the 
kyng" and constantly disportive, made 
A public disport with his neighbours, 

crowned as king of christmas, on horse 
back, having his horse bedizened with 
tinsel and flauntery, and preceded by the 
twelve months of the year, each month 
habited as the season requued ; after 
him came Lent, clothed in white and her- 
ring-skins, on a horse v/ith trappings o 
oyster-shells, " in token that sadnesse 
shulde folowe, and an holy tyme ;" and 
in this sort they rode through the city, 
accompanied by otiiers in whimsical 
dresses, " makyng myrtii, disportes, and 
playes." Among much curious observa- 
tion on these Shrove-tide mummings, in 
the " Popish Kingdome" it is affirmed, 
that of all merry-makers. 

The chiefest man is he, and one 

that most deserveth prayse 
Among the rest, that can finde out 

the fondest kinde of playes. 
On him they look, and gaze upon, 

and laugh with lustie cbeere, • 
Whom boys do follow, crying foole, 

and such hke other geare. 
He in the mean time thinkes himselfe 

a wondrous worthie man, &c. 

It is further related, that some of the 
rout carried staves, or fought in armour ; 
otiiers, disguised as devils, chased all the 
people they came up with, and frightened 
the boys : men wore women's clothes, 
and women, dressed as men, entered their 
neighbours' or friends' houses ; some were 
apparelled as monks, others arrayed 
themselves as kings, attended by their 
guards and royal accompaniments ; some 
disguised as old fools, pretended to sit on 
nests and hatch young fools ; others wear- 
ing skins and dresses, became counterfeit 
bears and wolves, roaring lions, and 
raging bulls, or walked on high stilts, with 
wings at their backs, as cranes : 

Some like filthy forme of apes, 

and some like fools are drest, 

Which best beseeme those papistes all, 
that thus keep Bacchus' feast 

Others are represented as bearers of an 
unsavoury morsel — 

that on 

a cushion soft they lay. 

And one there is that, with a flap 
doth keepe the files away 

Some stuffed a doublet and hose with 

rags or straw — 

Whom as a man that lately dyed 
of lionest life and fame, 

In blanket did they beare about, 

and streightways with the same 



They hurl him up into the ayre, 

not sutfring him to fall, 
And this they doe at divers tymes, 

the citie over all. 

The Kentish " holly boy," and " ivy girl" 
are erroneously supposed (at p_. 226,) to 
have been carried about on St. Valentine's 
day. On turning to Brand, who also 
cites tlie circumstance, it appears they 
were carried the Tuesday before Shrove 
Tuesday, and most probably were the un- 
recognised remains of the drest mawkin 
of the " Popish Kingdome," carried 
about with various devices to represent 
the " death of good living," and which 
our catholic neighbours continue. The 
Morning Chronicle of March the 10th, 
1791, represents the peasantry of France 
carrying it at that time into the villages, 
collecting money for the " funeral," and, 
" after sundry absurd mummeries," com- 
mitting the body to the earth. 

Neogeorgus records, that if the snow 
lay on the ground this day, snow-ball 
combats were exhibited with great vigour, 
till one party got the victory, and the other 
ran away : the confusion whereof trou- 
bled him sorely, on account of its disturb- 
ance to the " matrone olde," and " sober 
man," who desired to pass without a cold 
salutation from the " wanton fellowes." 

The " rabble-rout," however, in these 
processions and mockeries, had the ho- 
nour of respectable spectators, who seem 
to have been somewhat affected by the 
popular epidemic. The same author says 

the noble men, the rich 

snd men of hie degree, 
i^ast they with common people should 
not seeme so mad to bee, 

came abroad in " wagons finely framed 
before" drawn by " a lustie horse and 
"wift of pace," having trappings on him 
from head to foot, about whose neck, 

• and every place before, 

A hundred gingling belles do hang, 
to make his courage more, 

and their wives and children being seated 
in these " wagons," they 

behinde themselves do stande 

Well armde with whips, and holding faste 
the bridle in their hande. 

Thus laden and equipped 

With all their force throughout the streetes 
and market place they ron, 

As if some whirlwinde mad, or tempest 
great from skies should come 

and thus furiously they drove without 
stopping for people to get out of their 

Yea, sometimes legges or arms they breake, 
and horse and cart and all 

They overthrow, with such ^ force, 

they in their course do fall! 

The genteel " wagon'-drivers ceased nal 
with the cessation of the vulgar sports on 

But even till midnight holde they on, 
their pastimes for to make, 

Whereby they hmder men of sleepe, 

and cause their heades to ake 

But all this same they care not for, 
nor do esteeme a h.eare. 

So they may have their pleasure, &c. 

apprentices' holiday. 

Shrove Tuesday was until late years 
the great holiday of the apprentices ; why 
it should have been so is easy to imagine, 
on recollecting the sports that boys were 
allowed on that day at school. The in- 
dulgencies of the ancient city 'prentices 
were great, and their licentious disturb- 
ances stand recorded in the annals of 
many a fray. Mixing in every neigh- 
bouring brawl to bring it if possible to 
open riot, they at length assumed to de 
termine on public aftairs, and went in 
bodies with their petitions and remon- 
strances to the bar of the house of com- 
mons, with as much importance as theii 
masters of the corporation. A satire of 
1675 says, 

They'r mounted high, contemn the humble 

Of trap or foot-ball on a holiday 
In Finesbury-fieldes. No, 'tis their brave 

Wisely t' advise the king and parliament. 

But this is not the place to notice their 
manners further. The successors to their 
name are of another generation, they have 
been better educated, live in better times, 
and having bettermasters,will make better 
men. The apprentices whose situation 
is to be viewed with anxiety, are the out- 
door apprentices of poor persons, who 
can scarcely find homes, or who being or- 
phans, leave the factories or work-rooms 
of their masters, at night, tc go where 
they can, and do what they please, with- 
out paternal care, or being the creatures 
of any one's solicitude, and are yet ex- 
pected to be, or become good members of 

Vol. I. 





A MS. in the British Museum quoted 
by Brand states, that in 1560, it was a 
custom at Eton school on Shrove Tues- 
day for the cook to fasten a pancake to a 
crow upon the school door ; and as crows 
usually hatch at this season, the cawing 
of the young ones for their parent, 
heightened this heartless sport. From a 
question by Antiquarius, in the "Gentle- 
man's Magazine," 1790, it appears that it 
is a custom on Shrove Tuesday at West- 
minster school for the under clerk of the 
college, preceded by the beadle and the 
other officers, to throw a large pancake 
over the bar which divides the upper 
from the lower school. Brand mentions 
a similar custom at Eton school. Mr. 
Fosbroke is decisive in the opinion that 
pancakes on Shrove Tuesday were taken 
from the heathen Fornacalia, celebrated 
on the 18th of February, in memory of 
making bread, before ovens were invented. 
by the goddess Fornax. 


This was, and remains, a game on 
Shrove Tuesday, in various parts of Eng- 

Sir Frederick Morton Eden in the 
*' Statistical account of Scotland," says that 
at the parish of Scone, county of Perth, 
every year on Shrove Tuesday the bache- 
lors and married men drew themselves up 
at the cross of Scone, on opposite sides ; a 
ball was then thrown up, and they played 
from two o'clock till sun-set. The game 
was this : he who at any time got the ball 
into his hands, run with it till overtaken 
by one of the opposite party ; and then, if 
he could shake himself loose from those on 
the opposite side who seized him, he run on; 
if not, he threw the ball from him, unless 
it was wrested from him by the other 
party, but no person was allowed to kick 
it. The object of the married men was to 
hang it, that is, to put it three times into 
a small hole in the moor, which was the 
dool or limit on the one hand : that of 
the bachelors was to drown it, or dip it 
three times in a deep place in the river, 
the limit on the other : the party who 
could effect either of these objects won 
the game ; if neither won, the ball was 
cut into equal parts at sun-set. In the 
course of the play there was usually some 
violence between the parties ; but it is 
a proverb in this part of the country that 
"All is fair at the ball of Scone." Sir 
Frederick goes on to say, that this custom 

is supposed to have had its origin in the 
days of chivalry ; when an Italian is 
reported to have come into this part of 
the country challenging all the parishes, 
under a certain penalty in case of declin- 
ing his challenge. All the parishes de- 
clined this challenge except Scone, which 
beat the foreigner, and in commemoration 
of this gallant action the game was insti- 
tuted. Whilst the custom continued, 
every man in the parish, the gentry not 
excepted, was obliged to turn out and 
support the side to which he belonged, 
and the person who neglected to do his 
part on that occasion was fined ; but the 
custom being attended with certain incon- 
veniences, was abolished a few years be- 
fore Sir Frederick wrote. He further 
mentions that on Shrove Tuesday there is 
a standing match at foot-ball in the parish 
of Inverness, county of Mid Lothian, be- 
tween the married and unmarried women, 
and he states as a remarkable fact that the 
married women are always successful. 

Crowdie is mentioned by sir F. M. 
Eden, (" State of the Poor,") as a never 
failing dinner on Shrove Tuesday, with all 
ranks of people in Scotland, as pancakes 
are in England ; and that a ring is put into 
the basin or porringer of the unmarried 
folks, to the finder of which, by fair means, 
it was an omen of marriage before the rest 
of the eaters. Tliis practice on Fastens 
Eve, is described in Mr. Stewart's " Po- 
pular Superstitions of the Highlands," 
with little difference ; only that the ring 
instead of being in " crowdie " is in 
" brose," made of the " bree of a good fat 
iigget of beef or mutton." This with 
plenty of other good cheer being des- 
patched, the Bannich Junit, or " sauty 
bannocks" are brought out. They are 
made of eggs and meal mixed with salt 
to make them " sauty," and being baked 
or toasted on the gridiron," are regarded by 
old and young as a most delicious treat " 
They have a " charm" in them which en- 
ables the highlander to " spell" out his 
future wife : this consists of some article 
being intermixed in the meal-dough, and 
he to whom falls the "sauty bannock" 
which contains it, is sure — if not already 
married — to be married before the next 
anniversary. Then the Bannich Brauder 
or " dreaming bannocks" find a place. 
They contain "a little of that 'substance 
which chimney-sweeps call soot." In 
baking them " the baker must be as mute 
as a stone — one word would destroy the 



whole concern." Each person has one, 
slips off quietly to bed, lays his head on 
his bannoek, and expects to see his sweet- 
heart in his sleep. 

Snakspearein King Henry IV. says, 
Be merry, be merry. 

'Tis merry in hall, when beards wag all 

And welcome merry Shrovetide, 
Be merry, be merry, &c. 

It is mentioned in the " Shepherd's Al- 
manack"of 1676, that " some say, thunder 
on Shrove Tuesday foretelleth wind, store 
of fruit, and plenty. Others affirm that 
so much as the sun shineth on that day, 
the like will shine every day in Lent." 


Cloth of Gold. Crocus snlphurcus. 
Dedicated to St. Sigifride. 

ffthni^v^ 16. 

St. Oneshnus. Sfs. E/ias, Jeremy, Tsaian, 
Samuel, and Daniel, a. d. 309. <S^ Ju- 
liana. St. Gregory X. Pope, a. d. 1276. 
St. Tanco, or Tatta, of Scotland, a. d. 

Holiday at the Public Offices; except the Stamps, 
Customs, and Excise. 

Tliis is the first day of Lent. It is 
called Ash Wednesday, because in the Ro- 
man catholic church the priest blesses 
ashes on this day, and puts them on the 
heads of the people. Tliese ashes are 
made of the branches of brushwood or 
palms, consecrated the year before. The 
ashes are cleaned, and dried, and sifted, 
fit for the purpose. After the priest 
has given absolution to the people, he 
prays " Vouchsafe + to bless and sanctify 
+ these ashes — that whosoever shall 
sprinkle these ashes upon them for the 
redemption of their sins, they may obtain 
health of body and protection of soul,' 
&c. Prayers ended, the priest sprinkles 
the ashes with holy water, and perfumes 
them thrice with incense, and the people 
corning to him and kneeling, he puts ashes 
on their heads in the form of a cross with 
other ceremonies. 

Platina, a priest, and librarian to the 
Vatican, who wrote the lives of the popes 
re.'ates that Prochetus, archbishop of Ge- 

neva, being at Rome on Ash Wednesday, 
he fell at the feet of pope Boniface \'II I., 
who blessed and gave out the ashes on 
that day, in order to be signed with the 
blessed ashes as others had been. Think- 
ing him to be his enemy, instead of utter- 
ing the usual form, " Remember, O man, 
because thou art dust, thou shalt return to 
dust," &c., the pope parodied the form 
and said " Remember thou art a Gibelline, 
and with the Gibellines thou shalt return 
to ashes," and then his holiness threw the 
ashes in the archbishop's eyes. 

It is observed by Mr. Fosbroke that 
ladies wore friars' girdles in Lent. This 
gentleman quotes, from " Camden's Re- 
mains," that sir Thomas More, finding his 
lady scolding her servants during ].pnt, 
endeavoured to restrain her. " Tusti, 
tush, my lord," said she, "look, here is 
one step to heavenward," showing him 
a friar's girdle. " I fear me," said he, 
" that one step, will not bring you up one 
step higher." There are various instances 
of belief in the virtues of garments that 
had been worn by monks and friars; 
some of them almost surpassing behef. 

Ash Wednesday is observed in the 
church of England by reading publicly 
the curses denounced against impenitent 
sinners; to each malediction the people 
being directed to utter, amen. Many 
who consider this as cursing their neigh- 
bours, keep away from church on the oc- 
casion ; which absence from tliese motives 
Mr. Brand regards as " a folly and super- 
stition worthy of the after-midnight, the 
spirit-walking time of popery." On this 
eloquent remark, and Mr. Brand is sel- 
dom warmed to eloquence, it may be ob- 
served, that persons far removed from 
superstition and who have never ap- 
proached " the valley of the shadow of po- 
pery," deem the commination of the "Com- 
mon Prayer Book," a departure from the 
christian dispensation, and its injunctions 
of brotherly kindness. 


Lilac Primrose. Primula acaulis plena. 
Dedicated to St. Juliana. 

jTeljruarj) 17. 

St. Flavian, Archbishop of Constand- 
nople, A. u. 449. Sts. Theodulus and 
Julian. St. Silvin of Auchy, a. d 
718. St. Loman, or Luman, Bishop 
St. Fintan, Abbot. 




Scotch Crocus. Crocus Stisimius. 
Dedicated to St. Flavian. 


On the 17th of February, 1563, died 
Michael Angelo Buonarroti, as an artist 
and a man one of the most eminent 
ornaments of the times wherein he lived. 
A bare record of his decease is not suffi- 
cient. Thousands of readers have heard 
his name; some know his works; few 
know his character. 

Michael Angelo was born in Tuscany, 
on the 6th of March, 1474. Fascinated 
by art at an early age, he executed a 
facsimile of a picture in his thirteenth 
year, which he presented to the owner 
instead of the original, who did not dis- 
cover the deception till a confidant of 
Michael's began to laugh. He afterwards 
studied under Ghirlandaio, and at fifteen 
drew an outline round a drawing by his 
master which showed its defects and his 
own superiority. Studying in a garden 
supplied by the celebrated Lorenzo de 
Medici with antique statues and other 
forms, he saw a student modelling figures 
m clay, and emulous of excelling in the 
same branch, begged a piece of marble, 
and the use of implements, from one of 
the workmen employed in making orna- 
ments for Lorenzo's library. With these 
he imitated an old head, or mask, of a 
laughing faun, supplying the deficiencies 
effected by time, by his own invention, 
and making other additions. Lorenzo 
saw it, and good humouredlj remarked, 
"You have restored to the old faun all 
his teeth, but don't you know that a man 
of such an age has generally lost some ?" 
As soon as Lorenzo departed, Michael 
broke a tooth from the upper jaw, and 
drilled a hole in the gum to denote that 
it had decayed. Lorenzo at his next 
visit was delighted by this docility, and 
to encourage Michael assigned him an 
apartment in his palace for a workroom, 
seated him at his table, and introduced 
him to the men of rank and talent who 
daily resorted to Lorenzo, as the munifi- 
cent patronof learning and the arts. He 
justified this distinction by labouring 
with intense aidour. At seventeen years 
of age he sculptured in brass the battle 
of Hercules with the Centaurs; a work 
of which he said at seventy, "When I see 
it now, 1 repent that I did not entirely 
•levote myself to sculpture." His repu- 
tation increased with his aoplication, for 

application brought him nearer to excel- 
lence. By the merit of a sleeping cupid 
from his chisel, which was stained and 
buried by a dealer to be dug up as an 
antique, and purchased by cardinal 
Giorgio under the persuasion that it was 
one, he was invited to Rome. 

On the elevation of Julius II. to the 
pontificate he desired a mausoleum for 
his remains, and commissioned Michael 
Angelo to execute it. The design was 
magnificent and gratified Julius. He 
inquired the cost of completing it, " A 
hundred thousand crowns," answered 
Michael ; the pope replied, " It may be 
twice that sum," and gave orders accord- 
ingly. The pontiff" further determined on 
rebuilding the cathedral of St, Peter on a 
plan of corresponding grandeur wherein 
the mausoleum should be erected. It 
was for the prosecution of this vast struc 
ture for Romish worship, that Leo X. sold 
the indulgencies against which Luther 
inveighed, and by establishing the right 
of private judgment shook the papacy to 
its foundations. While Michael was en- 
gaged on the mausoleum, Julius caused a 
covered bridge to be erected by which he 
might pass from the Vatican to Michael's 
study unobserved. Envy was excited in 
the papal dependents by this distinction, 
and insinuated so much toMichael's disad- 
vantage that his unrestrained visits to the 
Vatican were suddenly interrupted. " I 
have an order not to let you enter, " said 
the groom of the chamber : a prelate 
inquired if he knew to whom he spoke; 
" Well enough," answered the officer, 
"and it is my duty to obey my orders." 
"Tell the pope," said Michael indignantly, 
" if he wants me, he shall have to seek 
"me in another place." He returned home, 
ordered his servants to sell his furniture 
immediately, and follow him to Florence, 
and the same evening left Rome. 

The pope sent couriers to force his 
return, but before he was overtaken he 
had leached a territory wherein the papal 
mandate was without authority. " Im- 
mediately return to Rome on pain of our 
disgrace," was the pope's letter. Michael's 
answer was, that having been expelled 
his holiness's antichamber without hav- 
ing merited disgrace, he had left Rome to 
preserve his character, and that he would 
not return; for if he had been deemed 
worthless one day, he could be little 
valued the next, unless by a caprice thai 
would neither be creditable to the pope 
nor to himself. Having despatched the 



pope's couriers with tliis letter, he pro- 
ceeded tu Horence. To the government 
of this city Julius wrote : " We know 
the humour of men of his stamp; if he 
will return, we promise he shall be nei- 
ther meddled with nor offended, and he 
shall be reinstated in the apostolic grace." 
Michael was unmoved. A second and a 
third arrived, each more impressive, and 
Michael remained unchanged ; but the 
Gonfaloniere of Florence, to whom these 
epistles were addressed, became alarmed 
and expostulated: "You have done by 
the pope what the king of France would 
not have presumed to do; he must 
be no longer trifled with ; we cannot 
make war against his holiness to risk the 
safety of the state ; and therefore you 
must obey his will." Thus remonstrated 
with, Michael entertained a proposal for 
entering into the service of the sultan 
Bajazet II., and building a bridge from 
Constantinople to Pera. The sultan had 
even sent him letters of credit on Flo- 
rence and all the cities on his way ; and 
appointed escorts of Janizaries to await 
his arrival on the Turkish frontiers, and 
conduct him, by whatever road he pleased, 
to the Mahometan capital. To divert 
Michael Angelo from this course, the 
Gonfaloniere urged that it was better to 
die under the pope's displeasure than to 
live in the Turkish service ; and that if he 
were appieliensive for his security at Rome, 
the government of Florence would send 
him thither as its ambassador, in which 
character his person would be inviolable. 
Michael, urged by these and other reasons, 
relented, and met the pope at Bologna, a 
city which had been betrayed to the papal 
arms, and taken possession of by Julius in 
great pomp just before Michael's arrival. 
The cardinal Soderini, brother to the 
Gonfaloniere, was to have introduced 
Michael to the pope, but indisposition 
constrained him to depute that office to 
a prelate of his household. The pope 
askanced his eye at Michael with dis- 
pleasure, and after a short pause saluted 
him, " Instead of your coming to us, you 
seem to have expected that we should 
attend upon you." Michael answered, 
iiat his error proceeded from too hastily 
feeling a disgrace he was unconscious of 
naving merited, and hoped his holiness 
would pardon what had passed. The offi- 
cious prelate who had introduced him, not 
thinking this apology sufficient, observed 
to the pope, that great allowance was to 
to be made for such men, who were igno- 

rant of every thing but their art. "Tliou,'' 
answered the pontifi, "hast vilified him; 
I have not : thou art no man of genius but 
an ignorant fellow; get out of my sight." 
Tlie prelate was pushed from the room. 
The pope gave Michael his benediction, 
restored him to full favour, and desired him 
not to quit Bologna till he had given him 
a commission for some work. In a few 
days, JMichael received an order from 
Julius for a colossal statue of himself 
in bronze. While it was modelling, the 
pope's visits to Michael were as frequent 
as formerly. This statue was grand, aus- 
tere, and majestic : the pope familiarly 
asked if the extended arm was bestowing 
a blessing or a curse upon the people. 
Michael answered that the action only 
implied hostility to disobedience, and in- 
quired whether he would not have a book 
put into the other hand. " No," said the 
pope, " a sword would be more adapted 
to my character, I am no book-man." 
Julius quitted Bologna, and left Michael 
Angelo there to complete the statue ; he 
effected it in sixteen months, and having 
placed it in the fa^-ade of the church of St. 
Petronio, returned to Rome. This product 
of Michael's genius was of short existence. 
The prosperity of Venice under united 
councils, and a prudent administration of 
its affairs, excited the hatred of the Euro- 
pean powers. An infamous league was 
entered into at Cambray for the ruin of 
the Venetian government, and the parti- 
tion of its terrritory ; Julius became 
a party to this alliance, with the hope of 
adding Romagna to the dominions of the 
church, and retaining possession of Bo- 
logna. Effecting his object, he withdrew 
from the league ; and by a change of 
policy, and a miscalculation of his strength, 
quarrelled with Louis XII. who had as- 
sisted him in subjecting Bologna. That 
monarch retook the city, restored the 
Bentivoglio family, which had been dis- 
placed by the papal arms, and the popu- 
lace throwing down Michael's statue of the 
pope, dragged it through the streets, and 
broke it to pieces. With the mutilated 
fragments the duke of Ferrara cast a 
cannon, which he named Julio, but pre- 
served the head entire, as an invaluable 
specimen of art, although it bore the 
countenance of his implacable enemy. 

Michael Angelo resumed Julius's mau- 
soleum, but the pontiff had changed his 
mind, and sorely against Michael's incli- 
nation, engaged him to decorate the ceil- 
ings and walls of the Sixtine chapel, with 



paintings in fresco, to the memory ofSixtus 
VI., tlie pope's uncle. For the purpose of 
commencing these paintings, ropes were 
let through the ceiling to suspend the scaf- 
folding. Michael asked Bramante the 
architect, who had arranged this machi- 
nery, how the ceiling was to be completed 
if the ropes were suffered to remain ? The 
answer did not obviate the objection. 
Michael represented to the pope that the 
defect would have been avoided if Bra- 
mante had better understood the applica- 
tion of mechanical principles, and obtained 
the pope's permission to take down the 
inefficient contrivance and erect another. 
This he effected ; and his machinery was 
so ample and complete, that Bramante 
himself adopted it in the building of St. 
Peter's. Michael gave this invention to 
the poor man who was his carpenter in 
constructing it, and who realized a fortune 
from the commissions he received for 
others on the same plan. To indulge his 
curiosity, and watch the progress of the 
work, the pope ascended the ladder to the 
top of Michael's platform almost daily. 
He was of an impetuous temper, and im- 
patient to see the general effect from below 
before the ceiling was half completed : 
Michael, yielding to his impatience, 
struck the scaffold ; and so eager were 
men of taste to obtain a view, that before 
the dust from displacing the machinery 
had settled, they rushed into the chapel to 
gratify their curiosity. Julius was satis- 
fied : but Michael's rivals, and Bramante 
among the rest, secretly solicited the pope 
to intrust the completion of the car- 
toons to Raphael. Michael had intima- 
tion of these wiles, and in the presence 
of Bramante himself, claimed and ob- 
tained of the pope the entire execution of 
"his own designs. He persevered with in- 
cessant assiduity. In twenty months 
from the commencement of " this stupen- 
dous monument of human genius" it was 
completed, and on All Saints' day, 151'2, 
the pontiff himself opened the chapel in 
person with a splendid high mass, to 
crowds of devotees and artists. Whatever 
Julius conceived he hastened with the 
ardour of youth ; he was old, and knowing 
that he had no time to spare, he had so 
harassed the progress of these cartoons by 
his eagerness, that the scaffolding was 
struck before they were thoroughly com- 
pleted ; yet, as there was not any thing of 
importance to be added, Michael deter- 
mined not to undergo the labour of re- 
erecting the machinery The pope loved 

splendour, and wished them ornamented 
with gold. Michael answered, " In those 
days gold was not worn, and the charac- 
ters I have painted were neither rich, nor 
desirous of riches ; they were holy men 
with whom gold was an object of con- 

Julius soon afterwards died ; and the 
execution of his mausoleum was frustrated 
by Leo X., to whose patronage Michael 
was little indebted. He finished his cele- 
brated cartoon of the Last Judgment, for 
the east end of the Sistine chapel, in 1541. 
On Christmas-day in that year the chapel 
was opened, and residents in the most 
distant parts of Italy thronged to see it. 
In the following year, he painted the 
Conversion of St. Paul, and the Crucifixion 
of St. Peter, on the walls of the chapel 
Paolina. In 1546, when he was 72 years 
old, the reigning pope nominated him 
architect of St. Peter's. Michael would 
only accept the appointment on the con- 
dition that he received no salary ; that he 
should have uncontrolled power over the 
subordinate officers ; and be allowed to 
alter the original design conformably to 
his own judgment. It was necessary 
to adapt and contract that design to the 
impoverished state of the papal exchequer. 
Though numerous impediments were pui- 
posely opposed to his progress with this 
splendid edifice, he advanced it rapidly ; 
and before he was 74, he had completed 
the Farnese palace, built a palace on the 
hill of the Capitol for the senator of 
Rome, erected two galleries for sculpture 
and painting on the same site, and threw 
up a flight of steps to the church of the 
convent of Araceli — an edifice remark- 
able for its occupying the highest part of 
the hill whereon the temple of Jupiter 
Capitolinus formerly stood, and, more 
especially, for Gibbon having mused there, 
while listening to the vespers of the bare- 
footed friars, and conceived the first 
thought of writing his " History of the 
Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire." 

In 1550, Julius III. succeeded to the 
pontificate, and Michael to new vexations. 
His rivals endeavoured to displace him 
him for unfitness in the conduct of St. Pe- 
ter's. A committee of architects was 
appointed to investigate the charge, in the 
presence of the pope. The committee 
alleged that the church wanted light ; and 
they furnished the cardinals Salviati and 
Marcello Cervino with plans, to show 
that Michael had walled up a recess 
for three chapels, and made only three 



insufficient windows. '' Over those win- 
dows are to be placed three others," an- 
swered Michael. '" You never said that be- 
fore.' answered one of the cardinals. To 
this Michael indignantly replied, " I am 
not, neither will I ever be, obliged to tell 
your eminence, or any one else, what 1 
ought or am disposed to do ; it is your 
olKce to see that money be provided, to 
keep off the thieves, and to leave the 
building of St. Peter's to me." The pope 
decided in Michael's favour. From that 
time Julius prosecuted no work in paint- 
ing or sculpture without JNlichael's ad- 
vice ; and his estimation of him was so 
high, that he told him at a public auai - 
ence, that if he died before himself, he 
should be embalmed, and kept in his own 
palace, that his body might be as perma- 
nent as his works. Soon after the death 
of Julius HI. in 1555, Paul IV., the new 
pontiff, expressed his displeasure of the 
academical figures in the Last Judgment, 
aud intimated an intention to " rpform" 
the picture. Michael sent this message 
to him : " What the pope wishes, is very 
little, and may be easily effected ; for if 
nis holiness will only ' reform' the opi- 
nions of mankind, the picture will be 
reformed of itself." This holy father 
plunged Italy in blood by his vindictive 
passions ; and while war ravaged its 
plains, Michael, at the age of 82, retreated 
far a while to a monastery. On coming 
from his seclusion, he wrote to Vasari, 
" I have had a great deal of pleasure in 
visiting the monks in the mountains of 
Spoleto : indeed, though I am now return- 
ed to Rome, I have left the better half of 
myself with them ; for in these trouble- 
some times, to say the truth, there is no 
happiness but in such retirement." The 
death of this pope filled Rome with 
" tumultuous joy," and the papal chair 
was ascended by Pius IV., in whose pon- 
tificate, wearied and reduced by the in- 
cessant attacks and artifices of his ene- 
mies. Michael, at the age of 87, resigned 
his office of architect to St. Peter's ; but 
the pope, informed of the frauds which 
had occasioned it, reinstated him, and 
to induce him to retain the appointment, 
ensured strict adherence to his designs 
until the building should be completed. 

At the age of eighty-nine a slow fever 
indicated Michael Angelo's approaching 
decease. His nephew, Leonardo Buo- 
narrotti, was sent for ; but not arriving, 
and the fever increasing, he ordered the 
persons who were in the house into his 

chamber, and in the presence of them and 
his physicians uttered this verbal will: — 
" My soul I resign to God, my body to 
the earth, and my worldly possessions to 
my nearest of kin :'' then admonishing 
his attendants, he said, " In your passage 
through this life, remember the sufferings 
of Jesus Christ." 

Thus died one of the greatest artists, 
and one of the noblest men of modern 
times. The ceremony of his funeral was 
conducted at Rome with great pomp, but 
his remains were removed within a month 
to Florence, and finally deposited in the 
church of Santa Croce at Florence. In 
1 720, the vault was opened ; the body 
retained its original form, habited in the 
costume of the ancient citizens of Flo- 
rence, in a gown of green velvet, and 
slippers of the same. 

According to his English biographer, 
Mr. Duppa, Michael Angelo was of the 
middle stature, bony in make, rathei 
spare, and broad shouldered ; his com- 
plexion good, his forehead square and 
" somewhat" projecting ; his eyes hazel 
and rathei small ; his brows with little 
hair; his nose flat from a blow given him 
in his youth by Torrigiano ; his lips thin ; 
his cranium large in proportion to his 
face. Within these pages a detail of his 
works will not be sought. The few par- 
ticulars mentioned are from Mr. Duppa's 
quarto life, where many of them are enu- 
merated, and outline sketches of some of 
them are engraved. 

The portrait of Michael Angelo select- 
ed by Mr. Duppa, to precede his life, 
engraved by Bartolozzi, firm a profile in 
Gori's edition of" Condivi's Memoir." He 
says its original was a drawing supposed 
to have been made by Julio Bonasoni, 
from which Mr. Duppa presumes that ar- 
tist to have etched a print bearing his name, 
and dated in the year 1546. There is an 
engraved portrait dated 1545, without 
any artist's name attached. Mr. Duppa 
says, "of these two prints Bonasoni's is 
much the best ; and although the second 
has a prior date, it appears to have been 
engraved from the same original." That 
" original," whatever it was, is no longer 
in existence. Certainly Bonasoni's print 
is better as a print, for it has the grace ol 
that master's point, yet as a likeness the 
print of 1545 seems to the editor of the 
Every-day Book to have a stronger claim 
to regard ; not because it is of prior date, 
but because it has more decisive marks 
of character. He conjectures, that the 



anonymous print of 1545 may have been 
executed from a bust or statue of Mi- 
chael. There is a laboured precision in 
the contour, and a close mannered mark- 
ing of the features, that denote the " on - 
ginal" to have been marble. The conjec- 
ture is strengthened by the fact, that the 
eye in the anonymous print is without 
an iris; a deficiency which exists in no 
engraved portraits unless they are exe- 

cuted from a marble " original." While 
correctness seems to have been the aim of 
the engraver in this anonymous print, 
elegance appears to have been the objec* 
of the painter Bonasoni in his etching. Bo- 
nasoni's portrait is comparatively common; 
the anonymous one is rare ; a copy of it 
from the print in the editor's posses- 
sion, is executed on wood, by Mr. T.Wil- 
liams, and placed under the reader's eye. 


Al D vXLV 




Midiael Angelo was remarkable for 
nothing but his genius. He slept little, 
and was abstemious ; he was accustomed 
to say, " However rich 1 may have been, 
I have always lived as a poor man." He 
obtained the reputation of being proud 
and odd ; for he found little pleasure in 
the society of men from whom he could 
not learn, or whom he could not teach. 
He was pleased by originality of charac- 
ter in whatever rank he met with it ; and 
cultivated in mature life the society of 
persons respected for their talents and 
learning. When young he endeavoured 
to acquaint himself with every branch ot 
knowledge that i^ould contribute to his 
improvement. In common with all who 
have obtained a deserved emmence, he was 
never satisfied with his performances ; if 
ne perceived an imperfection that might 
have been avoided, he either threw aside 
the work in disgust, or commenced it 

He continued to study to the end of 
his hfe. In his old age the cardinal 
Farnese found him walking in solitude 
amidst the ruins of the Coliseum and ex- 
pressed his surprise. Michael answered, 
" I go yet to school that I may continue 
to learn." He lived much alone. His 
great excess seems to have been indulg- 
ence in reflection, and the labours of his 
profession. The power of generalizing 
facts, and realizing what he conceived, he 
drew from this habit : without it some 
men have become popular for a time, but 
no man ever became great. 

Grandeur is Michael Angelo's pre- 
vailing sentiment. In his architecture of 
St. Peter's, he seems to have been limited 
by the impossibility of arriving to excel- 
lence without adopting the ancient styles, 
and the necessity of attempting something 
great without them ; and to speak with 
the severity of uncompromising truth he 
failed. Of what else he did in that 
science, and he did much, for which he 
obtained deserved renown, there is nei- 
ther room nor occasion to speak. In 
painting and sculpture, if he did not 
always succeed in embodying his feel- 
ings, yet he succeeded more frequently 
than any other artist since the revival of 
arts; and, as his power was greater 
than theirs, so he accomplished greater 
works. His aim was elevated as that of 
the giants who warred against the fabled 
gods; in one respect he was unlike them— 
be conquered. Majestic and wild as na- 

ture in her undescribable sublimit/, he 
achieved with corresponding greatness 
and beauty. His forms and their intellec- 
tual expression are of the highest order. 
He never did any thing little. All was in 
harmony with a mind which he created 
of himself by adding fact to fact, by se- 
vere reading, by close observation, by 
study, by seclusion. He was the quar- 
rier, and architect, and builder-up of his 
own greatness. 

Sir Joshua Reynolds speaks with be- 
coming deference of Michael Angelo's 
powers. — "It will not be thought presump- 
tuous in me to appear in the train, I can- 
not say of his imitators, but of his ad- 
mirers. I have taken another course, one 
more suited to my abilities, and to the 
taste of the times in which I live. Yet 
however unequal I feel myself to that at- 
tempt, were I now to begin the world 
again, I would tread in the steps of that 
great master : to kiss the hem of his gar- 
ment, to catch the slightest of his perfec- 
tions, would be glory and distinction 
enough for an ambitious man. He was 
the bright luminary from whom painting 
has borrowed a new lustre, under whose 
hands it assumed a new appearance, and 
became another and superior art, and 
from whom all his contemporaries 
successors have derived whatever 
have possessed of the dignified 


There are excellent casts from three of 
Michael Angelo's statues exhibited by 
Mr. West at Mr. Bullock's museum, in 
Piccadilly ; they are, Christ, from the 
church ofSta. Maria at Florence, Lorenzo 
de Medici from his monument, and the 
celebrated Moses, from the cliurch of St. 
Pietro, in Vincoli, at Rome. The editor 
of the Every-day Book has conversed with 
persons who think themselves pupils and 
students in sculpture and painting with- 
out having seen these ! 

Michael Angelo had studied anatomy 
profoundly. Condivi, who was his pupi^, 
and one of his biographers, says that his 
knowledge of human anatomy and oi 
other animals was so correct, that those 
who had studied it as a profession all 
their lives, scarcely understood it so well. 
When he began to dissect he conceived 
disgust from the offensiveness of the 
operation and desisted ; but reflecting that 
it was disgraceful to abandon what others 



;ould achieve, he resumed ond pursued 
>t to the fullest extent. Perceiving the 
utility of Albert Durer's "Treatise on the 
Proportions of theHumanBody," he deem- 
ed it capable of improvement. Its rules 
wore in his opinion insufficient and too 
mechanical, and he contemplated a trea- 
tise to exhibit the muscles in their various 
action. A friend, whom he consulted on 
the subject, sent him the body of a fine 
young Moor, which he dissected and 
made remarks on, but they were never 
published. The result of his anatomical 
knowledge may be seen in the powerful 
muscular developement of his figures : he 
left no part undefined. 

Several remarks occur in the course of 
Michael Angelo's letters concerning his 
art. Speaking of the rivalry between 
sculpture and painting, he says, " The 
sculptor arrives at his end by taking 
away vv^hat is superfluous ; the painter 
produces his, by adding the materials 
which embody the representation to the 
mind : however, after all, they are both 
produced by the same intelligence, and 
the superiority is not worth disputing 
about, since more time may be lost in the 
discussion, than would produce the works 
themselves." At one time, however, 
Michael Angelo regarded painting with 
less favour than he expresses in this 
letter. It is addressed to Varchi, who 
wrote a dissertation on the subject, and 
sent it to him with an inquiry, which had 
divided the amateurs of Florence, as to 
whether painting or sculpture required 
the most talent. Varchi's treatise has 
the merit of having convinced Michael 
Angelo that he was in error, and with 
the truth and candour inseparable from 
such a character he confessed hismi.stake. 
" Of the relative importance of painting 
and sculpture," says Michael Angelo, "I 
thmk painting excellent in propvortion as 
it approaches relievo, and relievo bad in 
proportion as it partakes of the character 
of a picture, and therefore I was used to 
be of opinion, that painting might be 
considered as borrowing light from sculp- 
ture, and the diff'erence between them as 
the sun and moon. Now, however, since 
I have read your dissertation, which treats 
the subject philosophicaHy, and shows, 
that those things which have the same 
end, are one, and the same, I have 
changed my opinion, and say, that, if 
greater judgment, labour, dirticulty, and 

impediment, confer no dignity on the 
work on which it is bestowed, painting 
and sculpture may be considered without 
giving the preeminence to either : and 
since it has been so considered, no painter 
ought to undervalue sculpture, and in 
like manner, no sculptor ought to make 
light of painting." 

Great as Michael Angelo was in art, 
his intellectual character was greater. 
" No one," says Mr. Duppa, " ever felt 
the dignity of human nature with its 
noblest attributes more forcibly than 
Michael Angelo, and his disgust at any 
violation of principle was acute in pro- 
portion to his sensibility and love of 
truth." He despised and shrunk from 
the shadow of a meanness : hating the 
heartlessness of unmeaning profession, 
he regarded the dazzling simulation 
which constitutes the polish of society as 
a soul-cloud. With these commanding 
views of self dignity he poured out his 
feelings to his friend Luigi del Ricco, ui 


Translated by Robert Southey Esq. 
(From Mr. Duppa s Life of Michael ^ngeln.j 

111 halh he chosen his part who seeks to please 
The worthless world, — ill hath he chosen his 

For often rriust he wear the look of ease 

When grief is at his heart ; 
And often in his hours of happier feeling 
With sorrow must his countenance be hung, 
And ever his own better thoughts concealing 
Must in stupid grandeur's praise be loud, 
And to the errors of the ignorant crowd 

Assent with lying tongue. 
Thus much would I conceal — that none should 

What secret cause I have for silent woe ; 
And taught by many a melancholy proof 
That those whom fortune favours it pollutes 
I from the blind and faithless world aloof. 
Nor fear its envy nor desire its praise. 
But choose my path through solitary ways. 

It w^s one of Michael Angelo's high 
qualities to bear about him an atmosphere 
which the parasite dared not approach . 
no heart-eater could live in it. 

He justly estimated whatever was in- 
fluential in society ; and hence though he 
seemed to look down upon rank as an 
accident of life, he was net regardless of 
its use. To those whom distinctions had 
raised, he paid the deference accorded to 
their dignities. Yet towards him who 
couched his integrity, he bore a lofty car- 
riage, and when .le condesended to resent' 



the attack, hurled an impetuous defiance 
that kindled as it flew, and consumed the 
insulting defamer, though he were enscon- 
ced behind countless quarterings, or er- 
mined and enthroned. To the constant 
oalumny of jealous rivalry, and the daily 
lie of envy and enmity, he was utterly 
indifferent. When asked why he did not 
resent the aspersions incessantly poured 
upon him by one of his assailants, he an- 
swered — " He who contends with the 
worthless cati gain nothing worth possess- 

Michael Angelo's temper was "sudden 
and quick ;" but his nature was kind and 
benevolent. Inferior artists frequently ex- 
perienced his friendly disposition. He 
sometimes made drawings and modelled 
for them. To Minigella, a very indiffer- 
ent hand, he gave the model of a crucifix 
beautifully executed, from which the poor 
fellow formed a mould and made casts 
of papier mache to sell to the country 
people. Friendship and esteem for par- 
ticular individuals oftener induced him to 
undertake works than proffers of large 
sums. Yet he was not indifferent or in- 
sensible to a just estimation of his talents 
when they were undervalued. For Angelo 
Doni, a Florentine of taste, he painted a 
holy family, and sent it home with a note 
requiring seventy ducats for it. Doni 
told the messenger he thought forty were 
enough ; Michael replied by demanding 
the picture or a hundred ; Doni said he 
was willing to pay the seventy ; Michael 
demanded a hundred and forty, and Doni 
paid the sum. 

He honoured worthy men in every sta- 
tion. His purse was open to their neces- 
sities ; he condoled with them in their 
atflictions, and lightened their oppressions 
by his sympathies and influence. To 
artists and men of talent his liberality 
was munificent. He neither loved money 
nor accumulated it. His gifts were the 
free-will offerings of his heart, and hence 
its dispensations were unaccompanied by a 
notoriety which sullies the purity of pri- 
mary obligation, by exposing the naked- 
ness of its object. 

Conver<5ing one day with his old and 
faithful servant, he said, " What will be- 
come of you, Urbine, if I should die?" " I 
must then seen, another master" was the 

reply. "Poor fellow," said Midiael, 
" tliou shalt not need another master," and 
he gave him two thousand crowns. This 
vk'as a large sum in those days : Vasari 
says such a donation would only have 
been expected from popes and great em- 
perors. Michael afterwaids jjrocuredhim 
an appointment in the Vatican to take care 
of the pictures, with a monthly salary of 
six ducats; and preserving his regard for 
the old man, Michael, though at that time 
eighty-two years of age, sat up with 
him by night in his last illness. "His 
death has been a heavy loss to me," he 
wrote to Vasari, " and the cause of exces- 
sive grief, but it has also been a most im- 
pressive lesson of the grace of God : fot 
it has shown me, that he, who in his life- 
time comforted me in the enjoyment of life, 
dying has taught me how to die ; not with 
reluctance, but even with a desire of death. 
He lived with me twenty-six years, grew 
rich in my service, and I found hint a 
most rare and faithful servant ; and now 
that I calculated upon his being the staff 
and repose of my old age he is taken away, 
and has left me only the hope of seeing 
him again in paradise." 

Michael Angelo was never married. 
To one who lamented that he had no chil- 
dren to inherit his property, Michael an- 
swered, " My works must supply their 
place; and if they are good for anything 
they will live hereafter. It would have been 
unfortunate for Lorenzo Ghiberti, had he 
not left the doors of S. Giovanni, for his 
sons and his nephews have long since 
sold and dissipated his accumulated 
wealth ; but his sculpture remains, and 
will continue to record his name to future 
ages." These "doors" were of bronze. 
When Michael was asked his opinion of 
them, he said they were fit to be the doors 
of paradise. 

Throughout the poetry of Michael An- 
gelo, of which there is much in existence, 
love is a pervading sentiment, though, 
without reference to any particular ob- 
ject. Condivi had often heard him dis- 
course upon it as a passion platonically ; 
and Mr. Duppa gives the following son- 
net, translated from the Italian of Michael 
Angelo by Mr. Wordsworth, as exempli- 
fying Michael's turn of thought : 



By Michael Angelo. 

Yett ! hope may with my strong- desire keep pace. 

And I ht undeluded, unbetray'd ; 
For, if of our affections none find grace 

In sight of Heaven, then wherefore hath God made 
The world which we inhabit 1 Better plea 
Love cannot have, than that in loving thee. 

Glory to that eternal Peace is paid, 
Who such divinity to thee imparts 
As hallows and makes pure all gentle hearts. 

His hope is treacherous only, whose love dies 
With beauty, which is varying every hour.- 
But in chaste hearts, uninfluenced by the power 
Of outward change, there blooms a deathless flower 

That breathes on earth the air of Paradise. 

The peisonal beauty and intellectual As an instance, a short poetica' suppli- 
endowments of Vittoria Colonna, marchi- cation, translated by Mr. Du] pa into 
ontss of Pescara, impressed Michael An- prose, is remarkable for its self-know- 
gelo with sentiments of affectionate esteem, ledge and simplicity; it is hijre sub- 
She admired his genius, and frequently jomed :— 
left her residence at Viterbo for the sole 

purpose of enjoying his society at Rome. " To the Supreme Being. 
He addressed three sonnets and a ma- «]viy prayers will be sweet if thon 
drigal to her. In her last moments he lendest me virtue to make them worthy 
paid her a visit, and told Condivi he to be heard; my unfruitful soil cannot 
grieved he had not kissed her cheek, as produce virtue of itself. Thou knowest 
he had her hand, for there was little hope the seed, and how to sow it, that it may 
of his ever seeing her again. He penned spring up in the mind to produce just and 
an epitaph on her decease : the recoUec- pjous works : if thou showest not the 
tion of her death constantly dejected him. hallowed path, no one by his own know- 
To the purity of his thoughts, there is jedge can follow thee. Pour thou into my 
a high testimony by Condivi. " In a long mj^j the thoughts that may conduct me 
intimacy, I have never heard from his {„ thy holy steps; and endue me with a 
mouth a single word that was not perfectly f^j^^^^ tongue, that £ may alway praise, 
decorous, and had not for its object to gxalt, and sing thy glory." 
extinguish in youth every improper and 

lawless desire : his nature is a stranger Finally, it may be added, that 'n an 

to depravity." He was religious, not by age of splendid vice, Michael Angcio waa 

the show, but from feeling and conviction an illustrious example of virtue. 

To Michael Angelo — Immortal 

Michael ! to what thou wert, if I could raise 

An aspiration, or a holy light, 
V/ithin one reader, I'd essay to praise 

Thy virtue ; and would supplicate the muse 
For flowers to deck thy greatness : so I might 

But urge one youthful artist on to choose 
A. life like thine, I would attempt the hill 

Where well inspiring floods, and thence would drink 
Till — as the Pythoness of old, the will 

No longer then controU'd by sease — I'd think 
Alone of good and thee, and with loud cries, 

Break the dead slumber of undeeming man, 
Refresh him with a gush of truth, surprise 

Him with thy deeds, and show him thine was Wisdom's plan. 




Tliis zodiacal sign is said to symbolize 
the fishery of the Nile, which usually 
commenced at this season of the year. 
According to an ancient fable, it repre- 
sents Venus and Cupid, who, to avoid 
Typhon, a dreadful giant with a hundred 
heads, transformed themselves into fish 
rhis fabulous monster, it seems, threw tlie 
whole host of heathen deities into confu- 
sion. His story shortly is, that as soon 
as he was born, he began to avenge the 
death of liis brethren, the giants who had 
warred against Olympus, by resuming the 
conflict alone. Flames of fire darted 
from his eyes and mouths ; he uttered 
horrid yells, and so frightened the pagan 
celestials, that Jupiter himself became a 

ram, Juno a cow, Mercury an Tois, A polio a 
crow, Bacchus a goat, Diana a cat, N'enus 
a fish, &c. till Jupiter hurled a rock and 
buried liim under TEtna. The idol Da- 
gon, with a human head and arms, and 
a fisii's tail, is affirmed to be the symbol 
of the sun in Pisces, and to allegorize 
tliat tlie earth teems witli corn and fruits. 
The sun generally enters Pisces about 
tlie period of February ; for instance, in 
1824 on the 16lh, in 1825 on the 18th of 
the month. The Romans imagined that 
the entrance of the sun into Pisces was 
attended by bad weather, and gales of 
uncertainty to the mariner.* Thomson 
sings, that in this month — 

Muttering, the winds at eve, with blunted point, 

Blow hollow-blustering from the south. Subdued, 

The frost resolves into a trickling thaw. 

Spotted, the mountains shine ; loose sleet descends, 

And floods the country round. The rivers swell. 

Of bonds impatient. Sudden from the hills, 

O'er rocks and woods, iu broad, brown cataracts, 

A thousand snow-fed torrents shoot at once ; 

And where they rush, the wide resouuding plain 

In left one slimv waste. Thomson. 

fthnmx^ 18. 

fit. Simeon, Bp. of Jerusalem, a.d.116. 
Sts. Leo and Paregorius, 3d Cent 


On the 18th of February 1734, the 

house of commons received a petition 

from Mr. Samuel Buckley, a learned 

printer ; setting forth that he had, at his 

sole expense, by several years' labour, and 
with the assistance of some learned per- 
sons abroad and at home, made colieo 
tions of original papers and letters re 
lating to •* Thuanus's History," written 
m Latin, in order to a new and accurate 
edition, in 7 vols, folio, which was finish- 
ed ; that the act of the 8th of Q. Anne, 

• Dr. Fovster's Perenn. Cal. 



for the encouragement of learning, ex- 
tended only to the authors, purchasers, or 
proprietors of the copy-right of any book 
in English, published after the 10th of 
April,1710, and allowed the importation or 
vending of any books in foreign language 
printed beyond the seas ; so that any books, 
first compiled and piinted in this kingdom 
in any of those languages, might be re- 
printed abroad and sold in this kingdom, 
to the great damage of the fiist printer or 
proprietor : he therefore prayed, that he 
might be alloved the same benefit in his 
copy of the " History of Thuanus," in 
Latm, for fourteen years. Leave was 
given to bring in the bill, and it after- 
wards passed into an act. 

The protection of this excellent work 
was a justice due to the spirit and liber- 
ality of Mr. Buckley. He had been 
originally a bookseller. John Dunton 
says of him, " He is an excellent linguist, 
understands the Latin, French, Dutch, 
and Italian languages, and is master of a 
great deal of wit : he prints the ' Daily 
Courant,' and ' Monthly Register,' which, I 
hear, he translates out of the foreign pa- 
pers himself:" — a great merit, it should 
seem, in the eyes of old Dunton. 

Mr. Buckley was a really learned 
printer. Tlie collections for his edition 
of Thuanus were made by Carte, who 
had fled to France from an accusation of 
high treason, during the rebellion of 1715 
and while in that country possessed him- 
self of so many materials for the purpose, 
that he consulted Dr. Mead, the cele- 
brated physician, and patron of literary 
men, concerning the undertaking. By 
the doctor's recommendation, it was in- 
trusted to Mr. Buckley, who imported 
the paper for it, which, with the mate- 
rials, cost him 2,350/. He edited the 
work with fidelity, and executed it with 

Mr. Buckley was the publisher of the 
" Spectator," which appeared in folio 
from his shop at the Dolphin in Little 
Britain, a place then filled with book- 
sellers. At the close of the seventh vo- 
lume this popular work was suspended^ 
but resumed by Buckley in Amen-corner. 
He attained to opulence and respect- 
ability, was in the commission of the 
peace for Middlesex, and died, greatly 
esteemed, on the 8th of September, 1741, 
in the sixty-eighth year of his age .* 

It is related of the great lord chancellor 

* Mr. N'icho1>'( Lit. Anecdote*. 

Hardvvicke, that he so highly regarded 
" Thuanus's History," as to have resigned 
the seals for the express purpose of bemg 
enabled to read it in the original lan- 
guage.* It has been computed that a 
person who gave his attention to this 
work for four hours every day, would not 
finish the perusal in twelve months. It 
comprehends the events of sixty-four 
years, durnig the times wherein Thuanus 
lived and flourished as an eminent French 
author and statesman. His English 
biographer quotes, as a character of his 
writings, that, " in a word, they are cal- 
culated to render those who attend to 
them better and wiser men ."t 


Wall Speedwell. Veronica vivensh. 
Dedicated to St. Simeon of Jerusalem.. 

February 19. 

St. Barbatus, or Barbas, Bp. a. d. 682. 

This saint is patron of Benevento, of 
which city he was bishop. Butler relates 
no miracle of him, nor does it appear from 
liim that any other name in the calendar 
of the Romish church is affixed to this 


A pretty trifle from the Greek is de- 
scriptive of appearances about this pe- 
riod :— 

To a Lady on her Birthday 

See amidst the winter's cold, 

Tender infant of the spring ; 
See tiie rose her bud unfold, 

Every sweet is on the wnig. 

Hark ! the purple flow'ret cries, 

'Tis for thee we haste away, 
*Tis for thee we brave the skies, 
Smiling on thy natal day. 

Soon shalt thou the pleasure prove. 
Which awaits on virtuous love 

Place us 'midst thy flowing hair. 
Where each lovely grace prevails^ 

Happier we to deck the fair, 
Than to wait the vernal gales. 


Field Speedwell. Veronica agrestis. 
Dedicated to St. Barbatus. 

* Biblint;. Diet. 

t Mr. CoUiuson'j life of I'liuanug. 



jfttruarp 20. 

St. Tifrannio, Bp. &c. a. d. 310. Sts. 
Sadoth,' Bp. &c. A. D. 342. St. Eleii- 
therius, Bp. a. d. 532. St. Mildred, Ab- 
bess. St. Eacherins, Bp. a. d. 743. 
S^ Ulrick. 

St. Mildred. 

This saint was the first abbess of Min- 
ster, in the isle of Thanet, founded by 
Icing Egbert about 670, in satisfaction for 
having murdered his two nephews, Ethel- 
dred and Ethelbright; to which satisfac- 
tion he was " miraculously terrified, by 
seeing a ray of bright light dart from the 
heavens upon their grave." In 1033, her 
remains were removed to St. Augustine's 
monastery at Canterbury, and venerated 
above all the relics there, and worked 
miracles, as all saints' relics did in those 
favoured times. The churches of St. Mil- 
dred, Bread-street, and St. Mildred in the 
Poultry, London, are dedicated to her.* 

In St. Mildred's church in the Poultry, 
Thomas Tusser, whose " Five Hundred 
Points of Good Husbandrie" have been 
cited in former pages of this woik, was 
buried, and on his tomb this 

Here Thomas Tusseh, 

clad in earth, doth lie, 
That sometime made 

The pointes of Husbandrie : 
By him then learne thou maist ; 

here learne we must, 
When all is done, we sleepe, 

and turne to dust : 
And yet, through Christ, 

to Heaven we hope to goe ; 
Who reades his bookes, 

shall find his faith was so.f 

St. Ulrick. 

Of this saint, who died the 28th of 
February, 1154, Butler says little, 

" The Flowers of the Lives of the 
most renowned Saincts of the three 
kingdoms, England, Scotland, and Ire- 
land, written and collected out of the best 
authours and manuscripts of our nation, 
and distributed according to their feasts 
in the calendar, By the R. Father, 
riiEROME Porter, Priest and Monke oj 
the holy order of Sainct Benedict, of the 
Congregation of England, Prmted at 

* Butlur's Lives of the Saints. 
H Stow. 

DowAY with licence, and approbation o 
the (Jrdinary, M.dc.xxxii," relates of- this 
saint, that he v/as born in a village called 
Lenton, or Litton, near Bristol, with many 
marvels concerning him, and among them 
this : — He became a priest, but ke[il 
hawks and dogs for sport, till he met a 
beggar who asked alms. Ulrick said, he did 
not know whether he had aught to bestow : 
" Look in thy purse," quoth the beggar, 
" and there thou shalt find twopence 
halfpenny." Ulrick finding as he was told, 
received thanks, and a prophecy that he 
should become a saint, whereupon he 
starved and hermitized at Hessleborough, 
in Dorsetshire, about thirty miles from 
Exeter. " The skin only sticking to his 
bones," his daintiest food was oaten-bread 
and water-gruel. He passed many nights 
without sleep, never slept but when he 
could not keep awake, and never went to 
bed, "but, leaning his head to a wall, he 
tooke a short allowance ;" and when he 
awoke, " he would much blame and chas- 
tise his body, as yielding vnto ouermuch 
nicenesse." His pillow was ropes of hay, 
his clothing poor, and lined next the skin 
with a rough shirt of hair-cloth, til! his 
flesh having overcome its uneasiness, he 
wore next his skin an iron coat of mail. 
In the sharpest cold of winter, having 
first put ofi' his iron shirt, he was wont to 
get into a vessel of cold water and recite 
psalms. His coat of mail hanging below 
his knees, he went to the knight who gave 
it to him, to take counsel therein. His 
military adviser persuaded him to send it 
to London to be cut ; but he gave the knight 
"a payre of sheares.'' The knight hesitated, 
the other entreated. " The one falls to 
his prayers, the other endeavours with 
iron and steale to cut iron and steale, 
■when both their labours tooke prosperous 
effect ; for the knight, in his cutting worke, 
seemed rather to divide a piece of cloath 
than a peece of iron." Then the saint, 
" without any sheeres, pulled asunder 
the little rings of that part of his coate 
cutt off, and distributed them charitably 
to all that desired, by virtue whereof 
manie diseases were cured." Envying 
such rare goodness, an infernal spirit, in 
most horrible shape, dragged him into 
the church, and ran him round the pave- 
ment, till the apparition of a virgin stoppe'!^ 
this rude behaviour ; however, the infernal 
took advantage of the saint when he was 
sick, and with a staflf he had in his hand 
gave him three knocks on the head, and 
departed. The devil tormented him other 



ways; he cast him into an intolerable 
heat, then he gave him an intolerable cold, 
and then he made him dream a dream, 
vhereby the saint shamed the devil by 
openly confessing it at church on Easter- 
day before all the people. At length, 
after other wonders, " the joints of his 
"iron coate miraculously dissolved, and it 
fell down to his knees." Upon this, he 
foretold his death on the next Saturday, 
and thereon he died. Such, and much 
more is put forth concerning St. Ulrick, 
by the aforesaid " Flowers of the Saincts," 
which contains a prayer to be used pre- 
paratory to the perusal, with these words, 
" that this holy reading of their lives may 
soe inflame our hearts, that we may follow 
and imitate the traces of their glorious 
example, that, after this mortall life, we 
may be made worthie to enjoy their most 
desired companie." 


Navelwort. Cynoglossum ompkalodes 
Dedicated to St. Mildred. 

nes«, or the fear of evil. Children have 
fallen from careless parents into the hand* 
of the executioner, in whom the means 
of distinguishing between right and wrong 
might have become a stock for knowledge 
to ripen on, and learning have preserved 
the fruits to posterity. Let not him de- 
spair who desires to know, or has powtr 
to teach — 

There is m every human heart. 
Some not completely barren part. 
Where seeds of truth and love might giow 
And flowers of generous virtue blow ; 
To plant, to watch, to water there, 
This be our duty, be our care. 



On the 20th of February 1 749, Usher 
Gahagan, by birth a gentleman, and by 
education a scholar, perished at Tyburn. 
His attainments were elegant and supe- 
rior; he was the editor of Brindley's 
beautiful edition of the classics, and 
translated Pope's " Essay on Criticism " 
into Latin verse. Better grounded in 
learning than in principle, he concen- 
trated liberal talents to the degrading 
selfishness of robbing the community of 
its coin by clipping. During his confine- 
ment, and hoping for pardon, he translated 
Pope's "Temple of Fame," and his " Mes- 
siah," into the same language, with a de- 
dication to the duke of Newcastle. To 
the same end, he addressed prince George 
and the recorder in poetic numbers. 
These efforts were of no avail. Two of 
nis miserable confederates in crime were 
nis companions in death. He suffered 
with a deeper guilt, because he had a 
higher knowledge than ignorant and un- 
thinking criminals, to whom the polity of 
society, in its grounds and reasons, is un- 

Accomplishments upon vice are as 
beautiful colours on a venomous reptile. 
Learning is a vain show, and knowledge 
mischievous, without the love of good- 

/i^ljruarp 21. 

St. Severianus, Bp. a. d. 452. Sta 
German. Abbot, and Randaut, or 7?a»»- 
doald, A. D. 666. Sts. Daniel and Ferda, 
A. D. 344. B. Pepin, of Landen, a. d. 640. 


" Here it is," says the " Indicator," 
" ready laid. Imprimis, tea and coffee ; 
secondly, dry toast ; thirdly, butter ; 
fourthly, eggs ; fifthly, ham ; sixthly, 
something potted ; seventhly, bread, salt, 
mustard, knives and forks, &c. One of 
the first things that belong to a breakfast 
is a good fire. There is a delightful mix- 
ture of the lively and the snug in coming 
down into one's breakfast-room of a cold 
morning, and seeing every thing prepared 
for us ; a blazing grate, a clean table-cloth 
and tea-things, the newly-washed faces 
and combed heads of a set of good-hu- 
moured urchins, and the sole empty chair 
at its accustomed corner, ready for occu- 
pation. When we lived alone, we could 
not help reading at meals : and it is cer- 
tainly a delicious thing to resume an en- 
tertaining book at a particularly interest- 
ing passage, with a hot cup of tea at one's 
elbow, and a piece of buttered toast in 
one's hand. The first look at the page, 
accompanied by a coexistent bite of the 
toast, comes under the head of intensities." 


The weather is now coid and mild 
alternately. In our variable climate we 
one day experience the severity of winter 
and a genial warmth prevails the next 
and, indeed, such changes are not unfre- 
quently felt in the same day. Winter 
however, at this time breaks apace, and 
we have presages of the genial season. 



Oxer;, o'er tlie furrow'd soil, 

Urging firm their annual toil ; 

Trim cottages that here and there, 

Speckling the social tilth, appear: 

And spires, that as from groves they rise, 

Tell where the lurking hamlet licj : 

Hills white with many a bleating throng, 

And lakes, whose willowy banks along 

Herds or ruminate, or lave, 

Immersing in the silent wave. 

The sombre wood — the cheerful plain, 

Green with the hope of future grain : 

A tender blade, ere Autumn smile 

Benignant on the farmer's toil, 

Gild the ripe fields with mellowing band, 

And scatter plenty through the land. 

liaron Smith. 


White crocus. Crocus versicolor. 
Dedicated to St. Servianus. 

fthvmv^ 22. 

The Chair of St. Peter at Antioch. St. 
Mars;aret, of Cortona, a. d. 1 297. Sts, 
Thalasius and Limneus. St. Baradat. 

St. Margaret. 
She was a penitent, asked public pardon 

for her sins with a rope about her neck, 

punished her flesh, and worked miracles 


Sts. Thalasius and Limneus. 

St. Thalasius dwelt in a cavern, " and 
was endowed with extraordinary gifts of 
the Holy Ghost ; but was a treasure un- 
known to the woild." St. lamneus was 
his disciple, and " famous for miraculous 
cures of the sick," while his master " bore 
patiently the sharpest cholics, and other 
distempers, without any human succour"* 

St. Baradat. 

This saint lived in a trellis-hut, exposed 
to the severities of the weather, and 
clothed in the skins of beasts.* 


Herb Margaret. Bellis perennis. 
Dedicated to ist. Margaret, of Cortona. 


A valued correspondent obliges the 
Every-Day Book with an original sketch, 
hasty and spirited as its hero, when the 

ButlerV SainU. 

sports of tiie field allured him from the 
pursuits of literature at college, and the 
domestic comforts of wife and home. 

To the Editor. 
To disemburthen oneself of ennui, and 
to find rational amusement for every sea- 
son of the year, is a jjrand desideratum in 
life. Luckily I have hit on't, and beg 
leave, as being the properest place, to 
give my recipe in the Everlasting Calen- 
dar you are compiling. I contrive then 
to give myself employment for every time 
of year. Neither lively Spring, glowing 
Summer, sober Autumn, nor dreary Win- 
ter, come amiss to me ; for 1 have con- 
trived to make myself an Universal 
Sportsman, and am become so devoted a 

fage of Diana, that I am dangling at her 
eels all the year round without being 
tired of it. In bleak and frozen January, 
besides sliding, skating in figures, aiid 
making men of snow to frighten children 
with, by means of a lantern placed in a 
skull at the top of them, I now and then 
get a day's cock shooting when the frost 
breaks, or kill a few small birds in the 
snow. In lack of other game, a neigh- 
bour's duck, or goose, or a chicken, shot 
and pocketed as I sally out to the club 
dinner, are killed more easily than my 
dairymaid does it, poor things ! 

In February, the weather being rainy 
or mild, renders it worth my while to send 
my stud into Leicestershire for hunting 
again; and so my white horse Skyscra- 
per, my old everlasting chestnut Silver- 
tail, the only good black in the hunt Sul- 
tan, and the brown mare Rosinante, to- 
gether with Alfana the king of the Cock- 
tails, a hack or two, and a poney for er- 
rands, are "pykedofF" pack and bag- 
gage for Melton; and then from the first 
purple dawn of daylight, when I set off to 
cover, to the termination of the day with 
cards, I have plenty of rational amuse- 
ment. Next month, forbearing March 
hares, I shoot a few snipes before they 
are all gone, and at night prepare my 
fishing tackle for April, when the verdant 
meadows again draw me to the riverside 
to angle. 

My wife has now rational employment 
for the rest of the Srmimer in catching 
and impaling the various flies of the sea- 
son against my trout mania comes, which 
is usual early in May, when all her maids 
assist in this flyfowling sport. I have 
generally been successful in sport, but I 
shall never forget my disappointment 

Vol. I. 



wnen on throwing in a flyline which was 
not baited by myself, I found that Sally, 
mistaking her new employment, had bait- 
ed my hook with an earwig. In June I 
neglected my Grass for the same sport, 
and often let it stand till the Hay is 
spoiled by Swithin, who wipes his wa- 
tery eyes with what ought to be my Win- 
ter's fodder. This gives me rational, 
though troublesome, employment in buy- 
ing Hay or passing off' the old at market. 
July, however, affords plenty of bobfish- 
ing, as 1 call it, for roach, dace, perch, 
and bleak. I also gudgeon some of my 
neighbours, and cast a line of an evening 
into their carp and tench ponds. I have 
not, thank my stars, either stupidity or 
patience enough for barbel. But in 
Augtist, that is before the 12th, I get my 
trolling tackle in order, and am reminded 
of my old vermin college days, when 
shutting my room door, as if I was 
" sported in" and cramming Euclid, I 
used to creep down to the banks of the 
Cam, and clapping my hands on my old 
rod, with his long line to him, exclaimed, 
in true Horatian measure, the only Latin 
line I ever cited in my life, 

Progenie loiiga £iiutles capiat e Johannes, 

But, oh! the 12th day o{ August, that 
mountain holiday, ushered in by the ring- 
ing of the sheep bell — 'tis then that, 
iacketed in fustian, with a gun on my 
shoulder, and a powder horn belted to my 
side, I ramble the rough highland hilts in 
quest of blackcocks and red game, get 
now and then a chance shot at a ptarma- 
gan, and once winged a Capercaille on a 
pine tree at Invercauld. In hurrying 
home for the First of September, I usually 
pass through the fens of Lincolnshire, and 
there generally kill a wild duck or two. 
You must know I have, besides my point- 
ers, setters, and spaniels, water dogs of 
every sort. Indeed my dog establish 
ment would astonish Acteon. There are 
my harriers, Rockwood, Ringwood, 
Lasher, Jewler, Rallywood, and twenty 
more; my pointers, Ponto and Carlo; 
my spaniek. Dash and Old Grizzle ; 
Hedgehog and Pompey, my water dogs. 
No one, I bet a crown, has better grey- 
hounds than Fly and Dart are, nor a 
surer lurcher than Groveller. I say no- 
thing of those inferior " Lares," my ter- 
riers — ratcatching Busy, Snap, and Nim- 
bletoes, with whom, in the absense of 
other game, I go sometimes for a frolic 

to a farmhouse, disguised as a ratcatc^.cr, 
and take a shilling for ferret work. 

But now I come to thy shrine, O lovely 
Saptembria, thou fairest nymyh in Di- 
ana's train, with ••oiling blue eyes as sharp 
and as true as those of a signal lieute- 
nant ; I come to court thee again, and may 
thy path be even paved with the skulls of 
partridges. Again I come to dine with 
thee on the leveret's back or pheasant's 
wings. We've wildboars' bladders foi 
wine bottles, ramshorns for corkscrews, 
bugles for funnels, gunpowder for snufl, 
smoke for tobacco, woodcock's bills for 
toothpicks, and shot for sugar piuins ! I 
dare not proceed to tell you how many 
brace of birds Ponto and I bag the first 
day of shooting, as the long bow, instead 
of the fowling piece, might be called my 
weapon. But enough rodomontading. 

I now come to October. Pheasants 
by all that's volatile ! And then, after 
them, I go to my tailor and order two 
suits — scarlet for master Reynard, and a 
bottlegreen jacket for the harriers, top- 
boots, white corderoy inexpressibles, and 
a velvet cap. Then when the covers ring 
attain with the hallowed music of harriers, 
I begin skylarking the gates and setting 
into wind to follow the foxhounds in 
November. When 

The dusky nighl ri:Ies dmon the sky, 

And ushers in the morn. 
The Hounds all make a jovial cry, 

And the Huntsman winds his horn. 

With three days in the week chace, and 
pretty little interludes of hunting with 
beagles, or of snipe shooting, I manage 
to get thiough December to the year's 
end. My snug Winter evenings are 
spent in getting ready my guns, smacking 
new hunting whips, or trying on new 
boots, while my old hall furnishes ample 
store of trophies, stags' horns hunted by 
my great grandfather, cross bows, guns, 
brushes won on rivals of Pegasus, and all 
sorts of odd oldfashioned whips, horns, and 
accoutrements, hanging up all round, 
which remind me of those days of yore 
when I remember the old squire and his 
sporting chaplain casting home on spent 
horses all bespattered from the chase, be- 
fore I had ridden any thing but my rock- 
ing horse. There then have I rational 
amusement all the year round. And 
much and sincerely do I praise thee, 
Diana ! greatest Diana of the Ephesians 
at thy feet will I repose my old and wea- 
therbeaten carcass at last and invoke thy 



tutelary protection for my old age, thou 
who art Hunting, Skootiyig, and Fishing 
personified, the true Diva Triformis of 

Imminens Villse tua Pinus esto, 
Quam per exactos ego Isetus aiinos, 
Veriis obliquum meditantis ictum, 
Sanguine donem. 

I have the honour to remain, 
Yours ever, 

Jack LARKiyc. 


To a '• proper new" tune. 


No !— I have nothing new to say, 

Why must ye wait to hear my story 1 
Go, get thee on thy tracliless way, 

There's many a weary mile before ye — 
Get thee to bed, lest some poor poet, 

Enraptur'd v.iih thy phiz should dip 
A pen in ink to let thee know it. 

And (mindful not to let thee slip 
His fingers) bid thy moonship sta^ 
And list, what he might have lo say 

Yet I do love thee ! — and if aught 

The muse can serve thee, will petition 
Her grace t' attend thine airy court, 

And play the part of first musician — 
But *' ode," and *' lines," " address," and 
" sonnet," 

" To Luna dedicate," are now 
So plentiful, that (fie upon it !) 

She'll add no glory to thy brow, 
But tell thee, in such strains as follow, 
That thy mild sheen beats Phosphor hollow ! 

That thou art " fairest of the fair," 

Tho' Phoebus more that's grand possesses. 
That tree and tower reflect thy glare, 

And the glad stream thy ray confesses, 
That, when thy silvery beams illumine 

The landscape, nature seems bedight 
With loveliness so rare, that few men 

Have e'er been blessed with such a sight ! 
And all such nioonshiiie : — but enough 
Of this tame " milk and water" stuff. A 

Jfeljniarp 23. 

St. Milburge, 7th Cent. 
She was sister to St. Mildred, wore a 
hair cloth, and built the monastery of 
Wenlock, in Shropshire. One day being 
at Stokes, a neighbouring village, brother 
Hierome Porter says, that " a young 
gallant, sonne to a prince of that coun- 
trey, was soe taken with her beautie, that 
he had a vehement desire to carrie her 
away by force tind marrie her." St. Mil- 
burge fled from him and his companions 
till she had passed a little brook, called 
Corfe, which then suddenly swelled up 
and threatened her pursuers with de- 
struction, wherefore they desisted. She 
ordered the wild geese who ate the corn 
of her monastic fields to be gone else- 
where, and they obeyed her as the waters 
did. After her death, her remains were 
discovered, in 1100, by two children 
sinking up to their knees in her grave, 
the dust whereof cured leprosies, restored 
the sight, and spoiled medical practice 
A diseased woman at Patton, drinking of 
the water wherein St. Milburge's bones 
were washed, there came from her sto- 
mach " a filthie worme, ugly and horrible 
to behold, having six feete, two homes 
on his head, and two on his tayle." 
Brother Porter tells this, and that the 
" worme was shutt up in a hollow piece 
of wood, and reserved afterwards in tiie 
monasterie, as a trophie, and monument 
of S. Milburg, untill by the lascivious 
furie of him that destroyed all goodnes 
in England, that, with other religious 
houses, and monasteries, went to ruine."* 
Hence the " filthie worme'' was lost, and 
we have nothing instead but the Reform- 


Apricot. Prunus Armentaca. 
Dedicated to St. Milburge. 

St. Sercims, a.d. 307. St. Milburge. 
B. Dositheiis. St. Peter Damian, Card. 
Bp. a.d. 1072. St Boisil, Prior of 


If ice still remain let those who ttmpt 
it beware ; — 

The frost-bound rivers bear the weight 

Of many a vent'rous elf; 
Let each who crowds to see them skate 

Be careful for himself: 

For, like the world, deceitful ice 
Who trusts it makes them rue : 

'Tis slippery as the paths of vice. 
And quite as faithless too. 

• Porter's Flowers of t)ie Saiute 




From the sabbath before Palm-Sunday, 
to the last hour of the Tuesday after 
Easter, " the Christians were accustomed 
to stone and beat the Jews,"* and all 
Jews who desired to exempt themselves 
from the infliction of this cruelty, com- 
muted for a payment in money. It was 
likewise ordained in one of the Catholic 
services, during Lent, that all orders of 
men should be prayed for except the 
Jews.f These usages were instituted 
and justified by a dreadful perversion of 
scripture, when rite and ceremony tri- 
umphed over truth and mercy. Huma- 
nity was dead, for superstition Molochized 
the heart. 

From the dispersion of the Jews they 
have lived peaceably in all nations to- 
wards all, and in all nations been perse- 
cuted, imprisoned, tortured, and put to 
death, or massacred by mobs. In Eng- 
land, kings conspired with their subjects to 
oppress them. To say nothing of the 
well-known persecutions they endured 
under king John, the walls of London 

*Mr. Foebroke'n Brit Mon. 


were tepa red with the stones of tlieir 
dwellings, which his barons had pillaged 
and de^jtroyed. Until the reign of Henry 
II., a spot of ground near Red-cross- 
street, in London,was the only place in all 
England wherein they were allowed to 
bury their dead. 

In 1262, after the citizens of I,ondon 
broke into their houses, plundered their 
property, and murdered seven hundred 
of them in cold blood, King Henry III. 
gave their ruined synagogue in Lothbury 
to the friars called the fathers of the 
sackcloth. The church of St. Olave in 
the Old Jewry was another of their syna- 
gogues till they were dispossessed of it r 
were the sufferings they endured to be 
recounted we should shudder. Our old 
English ancestors would have laughed 
any one to derision who urged in a Jew' 
behalf, that he had *' eyes," or " hands, 
** organs, dimensions, senses, affections 
passions ;" or that he was " fed with thf 
same food, hurt with the same weapons 
subject to the same diseases, healed by 
the same means, warmed and cooled by 
the same winter and summer as a Christ 



ian i?." Tliey would liLive deemed a man 
inud had one been found with a desire 
lo prove that 

the poor Jrtf', 

In corporal surttrance feels a pang as great 
As when a Chrisliaii dies. 

To say nothing of their more obvious suf- 
ferings for many centuries, the tide of 
public opinion raged against the Jews 
vehemently and incessantly. They were 
addressed with sneers and contumely ; 
the finger of vulgar scorn was pointed at 
them ; they were hunted through the 
streets in open day, and when protected 
from the extremity of violence, it was 
with tones and looks denoting that only 
a little lower hate sanctuaried their per- 
sons. In conversation and in books they 
were a by-word, and a jest. 

A work printed in 1628, for popular 
entertainment, entitled " A Miscellany of 
Seriousness with Merriment, consisting of 
Witty Questions, Riddles, Jests," he. tells 
this story as a good joke. A sea captain 
on a voyage, with thirty passengers, being 
overtaken by a violent tempest, found it 
necessary to tin'ow half of them overboard, 
in order to lighten the vessel. Fifteen 
of the passengers were Christians, and 
the other fifteen were Jevss, but in this 
exigency they unanimously agreed in the 
captain's opinion, and that he should 
place the whole thirty in a circle, and 
throw every ninth man over till only 
fifteen were left. To save the Christians, 
the captain placed his thirty passengers 
in this order, viz. : four Christians, five 
Jews ; two Christians, one Jew ; three 
Christians, one Jew ; one Christian, two 
Jews; two Christians, three Jews; one 
Christian, two Jews; two Christians, one 
Jew. He began to number from the first 
of the four Christians thus : 

CC. JJJ. C. JJ. CC. J. 
By this device, the captain preserved all 
the Christians, and deeped all the Jews. 

Selden says, " Talk what you will of the 
Jews, that they are cursed, they thrive 
wherever they come: they are able to 
oblige the prince of their country by 
lending him money ; none of them beg ; 
they keep together ; and for their being 
hated, my life fjr yours, Christians hate 
one another as much." This was true, 
but it is also true that three quarters of a 

century have not elasped since liatred to 
the Jews was a national feeling. In 1753, 
a bill was brought into the House of 
Lords for naturalizing the Jews, and 
relieving them from persecuting dis- 
abilities. It passed there on the ground 
that it would operate to the public 
advantage, by encouraging wealthy per- 
sons professing the Jewish religion to re- 
move hither from foreign parts to the 
increase of the capital, commerce, and 
credit of the kingdom. The corporation 
of London in common council assembled, 
petitioned against it on the ground that 
it would dishonour the christian religion, 
endanger the constitution, and prejudice 
the interest and trade of the kingdom in 
general, and London in particular. A 
body of London merchants an.d traders 
also petitioned against it. Certain popu- 
lar orators predicted that if the bill pass- 
ed, the Jews would multiply so fast, be- 
come so rich, and get so much power, 
that their persons would be revered, their 
customs be imitated, and Judaism be- 
come the fashionable religion ; they fur- 
ther alleged that the bill flew in the face of 
prophecy, which declared that the Jews 
should be scattered without a country or 
fixed habitation till their conversion, and 
that in short it was the duty of Christians 
to be unchristian. But the bill passed 
the commons after violent debates, and 
received the royal sanction. The nation 
was instantly in a ferment of horror and 
execration ; and on the first day of the 
next session of parliament, ministers were 
constrained to bring in a bill to repeal 
the act of naturalization, and to the foul 
dishonour of the people of England at 
that period, the bill was repealed. From 
that hour to the present, the Jews have 
been subjected to their old pains, penal- 
ties, disqualifications, and privations. The 
enlightenment of this age has dispelled 
much of the darkness of the last. Yet 
the errors of public opinion then respect- 
ing the Jews, remain to be rectified now 
by the solemn expression of a better^ 
public opinion. Formerly, if one of the 
" ancient people" had said in the implor- 
ing language of the slave, "Am I not a 
man, and a brother ?" he might have been 
answered, "■ No, you are not a man, but 
a Jew." It is not the business of the 
Jews to petition for justice, but it is the 
duty of Christians to be just. 

In the " General Evening Post" of 
June 21, 1777, a paragraph states, that 



" the following circumstance is not more 
ridiculous tlian true ;" and it proceeds to 
relate, that some years before, at Stam- 
ford, in the province of Connecticut, 
America, it was determined to build a 
church ; but " though the church was 
much wanted, as many people in that 
neighbourhood were at a loss for a place of 
public worship, yet the work stood still a 
considerable time for want of nails (for it 
was a wooden building ;) at last, a Jew 
merchant made them a present of a cask, 
amoimting to four hundred weight, and 
thus enabled the church to proceed." 
Such an act might make some Christians 
exclaim, " Almost thou persuades! me to 
be a Jew rather than remain a Jew-op- 
pressor under the name of a Christian." 
It is not, however, on private, but on open 
grounds and high principle, that justice 
should spontaneously be rendered to the 
Jews. The Jew and the Christian, the 
Catholic and the Protestant, the Episco- 
palian and the Dissenter, the Calvinist 
and the Arminian, the Baptist and the 
Unitarian, all persons, of all denomma- 
tions, are willed and empowered by their 
common document to acts of justice and 
mercy, and they now meet as brethren in 
social life to perform them ; but the un- 
sued claim of their elder brother, the Jew, 
is acknowledged no where, save in the 
conscience of every " just man made per- 

To extend the benefits of Education to 
the children of the humbler classes of 
Jews, is one of the first objects with their 
opulent and enlightened brethren. The 
" Examiner" Sunday newspaper of the 4th 
of February, 18"25, cooperates in their 
benevolent views by an article of inform- 
ation particularly interesting : — 

" On Friday last, the Jews held their 
anniversary, at the London Tavern, 
Bishopsgate-street, to celebrate their plan 
for the education of 600 boys and 300 
girls, instituted April 20, 1818, in Bell- 
lane, Spitalfields. It was gratifying to 
contrast the consideration in which the 
lews are now held in this country with 

their illiberal and cruel treatment in 
former times ; and it was no less gratify- 
ing to observe, that the Jews themselves 
are becoming partakers of the spirit oi 
the present times, by providing for the 
education of the poor, which, till within 
a very few years past, had been too much 
neglected ; another pleasing feature in the 
meeting was, that it was not an assem- 
blage of Jews only, but attended by people 
of other denominations, both as visitors 
and subscribers. Samuel Joseph, Esq. 
the president, was in the chair. Some 
loyal and patriotic toasts were given, ap- 
propriate addresses were delivered by 
different gentlemen, and the more serious 
business, of receiving and announcing new 
subscriptions, was much enlivened by a 
good band of vocal and instrumental 
music. Among the subscriptions referred 
to, one was of a peculiarly generous na- 
ture. An unknown hand had forwarded 
to the treasurer o.j the two last meetings 
a sum of 200/. This year he received in- 
structions to clothe all the children at the 
expense of the same generous donor. The 
procession of the children round the hall, 
was an agreeable scene at tin's important 
meeting. A poetical address in the He- 
brew language was delivered by one of 
the boys, and an English translation of i, 
by one of the girls, each with propriety 
of accent, and much feeling." 

A record testifying the liberal disposi- 
tion and humane attention of the Jews to 
the welfare of their offspring, is not out 
of place in a work which notices the pro- 
gress of manners ; and it is especially 
grateful to him who places it on this page, 
that he has an opportunity of evincing his 
respect for generous and noble virtues, in 
a people whose residence in all parts of 
the world has advantaged every state, and 
to whose enterprise and wealth, as mer- 
chants and bankers, every government in 
Europe has been indebted. Their sacred 
writings and their literature have been 
adopted by all civilized communities, 
while they themselves have been fugitives 
every where, without security any where. 
They are 

-a people scatter'd wide indeed. 

Yet from the mingling world distinctly kept ; 

Ages ago, the Roman standard stood 

Upon their ruins, yet have ages swept 

O'er Rome herself, like an o'erwhelming flood, 

Since down Jerus'lem's streets she pour'd her children's blood. 

And still the nation hves ! 

Mr. Bull's Museum. 



jfebniarp 24. 

St. Matthias, \Ue Ap-ule. Sts. Monta- 
niis, Lnc'ni.f, F/avii'i, Julian, Victori- 
cus, Prinwlus, Rhcnu.s, and Donutian, 
A. D.259. St. Lelhiird, ox Luidhard, 
Bp. A. D. 566. B. Uobert of Arbrissel, 
A. D. 1116. St. Pretestatus, or Prix, 
Abp. A. I). 549. St. Ethelbert, King. 

St. Etheltiirt. 

He was king of Konl, and, according 
to Butler, the first cliiistian iving. It 
was under him that St. Augustine found 
favour when he landed in England with 
his monks, and is said to have introduced 
Christianity to the English people ; an 
assertion wholly unfounded, inasmuch as 
it had been diffused hither centuries be- 
fore. Augustine established nothing but 
monasteries and monkery, and papal 

Bertha, the queen of Ethelbert, was a 
convert, and her spiritual director offici- 
ated, before Augustine's arrival, in the 
little church of St. Martin, situated just 
without Canterbury on the road to Mar- 
gate ; the present edifice is venerable for 
its site and its rude simplicity. 

Ethelbert's powei is said to have ex- 
tended to the Humber, and hence he is 
often styled king of the English. lie 
was subdued to the views of the papacy 
by Augustine. Ethelbert founded Can- 
terbury cathedral, and built wilhoul the 
walls of the city, the abbey and chnr<li of 
St. Peter and St. Paul, the ruins of 
which are denominated at this day St. 
Augustine's monastery and Ethelbert's 
lower. The foundation of the cathedral 
of Rochester, St. Paul's at London, and 
other ecclesiastical structures, is ascribed 
to him. Ho died in 616. Sometimes he 
is called St. Albert, and churches are 
tledicated to him under that name. 

On the 24th of February, 1809, diea 
Mr. Jennings of Galley-lane, near Barnet, 
lierts. A few days previous to his de- 
cease he called on Mr. Wm, Salmon, 
his carpenter, at Shenley-hill, to go with 
Iiim and fix upon a spot for his vault. 
On the Sunday before his death he went 
on horseback to Shenley-hill, and stopped 
at the White Horse to have a glass cf 
warm wine, with the same intention uf 
going to Ridge ; and afterwards, seeing 
the rev. Mr. Jefferson, endeavoured to 
buy the ground, but differed with him 
for two guineas. On the Monday, he 

applied to Mr. Mars, of Barnet, for a 
vault there, but Mr. Jefi'erson senomg 
him a note acceding to his terms, he 
opened it before Mr. Salmon and Dr. 
Booth, and aftei he had read it, showed 
it them, with this exclamation — "There, 
see what these fellows will do !'' The 
day before he died he played at whist 
with Dr. Rumball, Dr. Booth, and his 
son, in bed : in the course of the evening 
he said, " The game is almost up." He 
afterwards informed his son, he had lent 
a person some money that morning, and 
desired him to see it repaid. To some 
friends he observed, that he should not 
be long with them, and desiring them to 
leave the room he called back his son, 
for the purpose of saying to him, " I 
gave William money for coals this morn- 
ing ; deducting the turnpike, mind he 
gives you eleven and eightpence in 
change when he comes home. Your 
mother always dines at three o'clock, get 
your dinner with her, I shall be gone 
before that time — and don't make any 
stir about me." He died at half-past 
two. This account is from the manu- 
script papers of the late Mr. John Almon, 
in possession of the editor. 

Regarding the season, there is an old 
proverb worthy noticing: 

February fill dike, be it black or be it white 
But if it be white, it's the better to like. 

Old Proverb. 


Great Fern. Osmimda regalis 
Dedicated to St. Ethelbert. 

jTfbruaii) 25. 

St. Tarasius, a. v. 806. St. Victorinm, 
i.D. 284. St. Tf'ulbiirg, Ahh&ss. St 
Ccesariim, a.d. 369. 

St. fValbiirg 
Tliis saint, daughter of Richard, king 
of the West Saxons, also a saint, became 
a nun at Winburn in Dorsetshire, from 
whence, twenty-seven years after she 
had taken the veil, she went to Germany, 
and became abbess of a nunnery at 
Heidenheim in Suabia, where her brother 
governed an abbey of monks, which at 
his death, in 760, she also governed, and 
died in 779. His relics were distributed 
in the principal cities of the Low 
Countries, and the cathedral of Canter- 



bnry. Tlie catalogue of relics in tlie 
e.ectoral palace of Hanover, published 
there in 1713, mentions some of them 
there in a rich shrine. Butler calls tliem 
" rich particles." Part of her jawbone, 
at Antwerp, was visited and kissed by archduke Albert and Isabella in 1615. 
An oily liquor flowed from her tomb, 
and was a sovereign remedy, till the 
chemists and apotlie(;aries somehow or 
otlier got their simples and substances 
into superior reputation. Strange to say, 
these victors over relics have never been 
c^Jiionized, yet their names would not 
soiind badly in the calendar : for instance, 
St. William Allen, of Plough-court ; St. 
Anderson, of Fleet-street; St. Cribb, of 
Ihrh Ilolborn; St. Hardy, of Walworth ; 
St. Fidler, of Peckham ; St. Perfect, of 
Hammersmith ; &c. 


It is observed by Dr. Forster in the 
* Perennial Calendar," that about tliis 
season the purple spring crocus, crocus 
veritns, now blows, and is the latest of our 
crocuses. " It continues through March 
like the rest of the genus, and it varies 
with purple, with whitish, and with light 
blue flowers. The flowers appear before 
the leaves are grown to their full length. 
The vernal and autumnal crocus have 
such an affinity, that the best botanists 
only make them varieties of the same 
genus. Yet the vernal crocus expands 
its flowers by the beginning of March at 
farthest, often in very rigorous weather, 
and cannot be retarded but by some vio- 
lence offered ; while the autumnal crocus, 
or saffron, alike defies the influence of 
the spring and summer, and will not 
blow till most plants begin to fade and 
run to seed. 

On the Seasons of Flowering, by White. 

Say, what impels, amid surrounding snow, 
Congealed, the Crocus' flamy bud to glow? 
Say, what retards, amid the Summer's blaze. 
The autumnal bulb, till pale, declining days? 
Tlie God of Seasons, who.'^e pervading power 
Controls tne sun, or sheds the fleecy shower: 
He bids each flower his quickening word obey ; 
Or to each lingering bloom enjoins delay. 

We may now begin to expect a succes- 
sion of spring flowers; something new 
will be opening every day through the 
rest of the season " 


A vvritsr urder tlie signature Crito in 

tlie "Truth Teller" dilates most plea- 
santly in his fourth letter concerning 
flowers and their names. He says " the 
pilgrimages and the travelling of the 
mendicant friars, which began to be com- 
mon towards the close of tiie twelfth cen- 
tury, spread this knowledge of plants and 
of medical nostrums far and wide. 
Tiiough many of these vegetable specifics 
have been of late years erased from our 
Pharmacopoeias, yet their utility has been 
asserted by some very able writers on 
pliysic, and the author of these observa- 
tions has himself often witnessed their 
efficacy in cases where regular practice 
had been unavailing. Mr. Abernethy 
lias alluded to the surprising efficacy of 
these popular vegetable diet drinks, in 
his book on the ' Digestic Organs.* And 
it is a fact, curiously corroborating their 
utility, that similar medicines are used by 
the North American Indians, whose saga- 
city has found out, and known from time 
immemorial, the use of such various herbs 
as medicines, which the kind, hospitable 
woods provide ; and by means of which 
Mr. Whitlaw is now making many ex- 
cellent cures of diseases.'' He then pro- 
ceeds to mention certain plants noted by 
the monks, as floweririig about the time of 
certain religious festivals : " The snow- 
drop, Galanthus nivalis, whose pure white 
and pendant flowers are the first harbin- 
gers of spring, is noted dov/n in some 
calendars as being an emblem of the 
purification of the spotless virgin, as it 
blows about Candlemas, and was not 
known by the name of snowdrop till 
lately, being formerly called fair maid 
OF FEBRUARY, in houour of our lady. 
Sir James Edward Smith, and other 
modern botanists, make this plant a 
nntive of England, but I can trace most 
of the wild specimens to some neighbour- 
ing garden, or old dilapidated monastery ; 
and I am persuaded it was introduced 
into England by the monks subsequent 
to the conquest, and probably since the 
time of Chaucer, who does not notice it, 
though he mentions the daisy, and various 
less striking flowers. The lady smock, 
Cardamine pratensis, is a word corrupted 
of ' our lady's smock,' a name by which 
this plant (as well as that of Chemise de 
notre Dame) is still known in parts of 
Europe : it first flowers about Lady Tide, 
or the festival of the Annunciation, and 
hence its name. Cross Flowfr, Poly- 
ffd'ii f^ulgaris, which begins to flower 
about the Invention of the Cross, May 3, 



■was also called Rogation flower, and 
was carried by maidens in the processions 
in Ro2;ation week, in early times. The 
monks discovered its quality of producing 
milk in nursing women, and hence it was 
called milkwort. Indeed so extensive 
was the knowledge of botany, and of the 
medical power of herbs among the monks 
of old, that a few examples only can be 
adduced in a general essay, and indeed it 
appears that many rare species of exotics 
were known by them, and were inhabit- 
ants of their monastery gardens, which 
Beckmann in his ' Geshiete der Erfin- 
diengen,' and Dryander in the ' Hortns 
Kewen.iis,' have ascribed to more modern 
introducers. What is very remarkable is, 
that above three hundred species of medi- 
cal plants were known to the monks and 
friars, and used by the religious orders 
in general for medicines, which are now 
to be found in some of our numerous 
books of pharmacy and medical botany, 
by new and less appropriate names ; just 
as if the Protestants of subsequent times 
bad changed the old names with a view 
to obliterate any traces of catholic science. 
Linnaeus, however, occasionally restored 
the ancient names. The following are 
some familiar examples which occur to 
me, of all medicinal plants, whose names 
liave been changed in later times. The 
virgin's boiver, of the monastic physi- 
cians, was changed into flammula Jovis, 
by the new pharmaciens ; the hedge 
hyssop, into gratiola ; the St. Johns icort 
(so called from blowing about St. John 
the Baptist's day) was changed into 
bypericum; fleur de St. Louis, into iris; 
J)alma Christi, into ricinus; our maste- 
wort, into imperatoria; sweet bay., into 
laurus ; our lady's sviock, into cardamine ; 
Solomons seal, into convallaria ; our 
lady's hair, into trichomanes ; balm, into 
melissa ; »7jar;onm(, into origanum; crow- 
foot, inio x3ia\iuc\x\\iiS; herb Trinity, into 
viola tricolor; avens into caryophyllata ; 
coltsfoot, into tussilago ; knee holy, into 
rascus ; ivormwood, into absinthium ; 
oscmary, into rosmarinus ; marygold, 
into calendula, and so on. Thus the an- 
cient names were not only changed, but 
in this change all the references to religi- 
ous subjects, which would have led people 
to a knowledge of their culture among 
the monastic orders, were carefully left 
out. The THORN APPLE, datura stramo- 
ni?im, is not a nati\c of England ; it was 
introduced by the triars in early of 
pilgrimage; and hence we sue it on old 

waste lands near abbeys, and on dung- 
hills, &c. Modern botanists, howevtT, 
have ascribed its introduction to gipsies 
although it has never been seen among 
that wandering people, nor used by thptn 
as a drug. I could adduce many other 
instances of the same sort. But vain 
indeed would be the endeavour to over- 
shadow the fame of tlie religious orders 
in medical botany and the knowledge of 
plants ; go into any garden and the com- 
mon name of marygold, our lady's seal, 
our lady's bedstraw, holy oak, (corrupted 
into holyhock,) the virgin's thistle, St. 
Barnabys thistle, herb Trinity, herb St. 
Christopher, herb St. Robert, herb St. 
Timothy, Jacob's ladder, star of Bethle- 
hem, now called ornithogalum; star of 
Jerusalem, now made goat'sbeard ;;)fl**/o;j 
flower, now passiflora ; Lent lilly, now 
daflodil; Canterbury bells, {s>o called in 
honour of St. Augustine,) is now made 
into Campanula ; cursed thistle, now 
carduus ; besides archangel, apple of Je- 
rusalem, St. Paul's bctony, Basil, St 
Berbe, herb St. Barbara, bishopsiveed, 
herba Christi, herba Benedict, herb Si. 
Margaret, (erroneously conrerted into 
la belle Marguerite,) god's floiver, flos 
Jovis, Job's tears, our lady's laces, our 
lady's mantle, our lady's slipper, monk's 
hood, friar's cowl, St. Peter's herb, and 
a hundred more such. — Go into any gar- 
den, I say, and these names will remind 
every one at once of the knowledge of 
plants possessed by the monks. Most of 
them have been named after the festivals 
and saints' days on which their natural 
time of blowing happened to occur; and 
others were so called, from the tendency 
of the minds of the religious orders oi 
those days to convert every thing into a 
memento of sacred history, and the holy 
religion which they embrticed." 

It will be perceived that Crito is q 
Catholic. His floral enumeration is 
amusing and instructive ; and as his bi<i.» 
is natural, so it ought to be inoffensive. 
Liberality makes a large allowance for 
educational feelings and habitual mis- 
take ; but deceptive views, false reason- 
ings, and perverted facts, cannot be useu, 
by either Protestant or Catholic, with 
impunity to himself, or avail to the cause 
he espouses. 

Leo the XII. the present pope, on the 
24th of May, 1824, put forth a bull fr( m 
St. Peter's at Rome. " We have resolveri," 
he savs, "by virtue of the auihority giveu 



to us Dy neaven fully to unlock the sacred 
treasure composed of the merits, suffer- 
ings, and virtues of Christ our Lord, and 
of his Virgin Mother, and of all the saints, 
which the author of human salvation has 
intrusted to our dispensation. Let the 
earth therefore hear the words of his 
mouth. We proclaim that the year of 
Atonement and Pardon, of Redemption 
and Grace, of Remission and Indulgence 
is arrived. We ordain and publish the m.ost 
solemn Jubilee, to commence in this holy 
city from the first vespers of the nativity 
of our most holy saviour, Jesus Christ, 
next ensuing, and to continue during the 
whole year 1825, during which time we 
mercifully give and grant in the Lord a 
Plenary Indulgence, Remission, and Par- 
don of all their Sins to all the Faithful of 
Christ of both sexes, truly penitent and 
confessing their sins, and receiving the 
holy communion, who shaU devoutly visit 
the churches of blessed Peter and Paul, 
as also of St. John Lateran and St. Mary 
Major of this city for thirty successive 
days, provided they be Romans or inha- 
bitants of this city ; but, if pilgrims or 
strangers, if they sliall do the same for 
fifteen days, and shall pour forth their 
pious prayers to God for the exaltation 
of the holy church, the extirpation of 
heresies, concord of catholic princes, and 
the safety and tranquillity of christian 
people." The pope requires "all the earth" 
to " therefore ascend, with loins girt up, 
to holy Jerusalem, this priestly and 
royal city." — He requires the clergy to 
explain " the power of Indulgences, what 
is their efficacy, not only in the remission 
of the canonical penance, but also of the 
temporal punishment," and to point out 
the succour afforded to those " now puri- 
fying in the fire of Purgatory." However^ 
in February, 1825, one of the public 
journals contains an extract from the 
French Journal des Dehats, which states 
that there was " a great falling off in the 
devotion of saints and pilgrims," and it 
proves this by an article from Rome, 
dated January 25, 1825, of which the 
following is a copy : 

" The number of pilgrims drawn to 
Jerusalem (Rome) by the Jubilee is re- 
markably sm.all, compared with former 
Jubilees. Without adverting to those of 
1300 and 1350, when they had at least a 
million of pilgrims; in 1750, they had 
1,300 pilgrims presented on the 24th of 
December, at the opening of the holy 
gate. That number was increased to 

8,400 before the ensuing New Year's day. 
This time (Christmas, 1824) they had no 
more than thirty-six pilgrims at the open- ■ 
ing of the holy gate, and in '.he course of 
Christmas week, that number increased 
only to 440. This is explained by the 
strict measures adopted in the Italian 
states with respect to the passports of pil- 
grims. The police have taken into their 
heads, that a vast number of individuals 
from all parts of Europe wish to bring 
about some revolutionary plot. They be- 
lieve that the Carbonari, or some other 
Italian patriots, assemble here in crowds 
to accomplish a dangerous object. The 
passports of simple labourers, and other 
inferior classes, are rejected at Milan, and 
the surrounding cities of Austrian Italy, 
when they have not a number of signa- 
tures, which these poor men consider 
quite unnecessary. They cannot enter the 
Sardinian states without great difficulty. 
These circumstances are deplorable in the 
eyes of religious men. We are all griev- 
ed at this place." 

On this, the Journal des Debuts re. 
marks, " Notwithstanding the excuse for 
so great a reduction of late years in the 
number of these devotees, it has evidently 
been produced by the diffusion of know- 
ledge. Men, in 1825, are not so simple 
as to suppose they cannot be saved, with- 
out a long and painful journey to Jerusa- 
lem (Rome.)" 

Floral Directory. 
Peach. Amygdalnn Persica. 
Dedicated to St. fFalburg. 

fthrmv^ 26. 

St. Alexander. St. Porphyrins, Bishop 
of Gaza, a. d. 420. St. Victor, or Vit- 
tre, 7th Cent. 

St. Alexander. 
This is the patriarch of Alexandria so 
famous in ecclesiastical history for his 
opposition to Arius whom, with St. 
Athanasius and Marcellus of Ancyra, as 
his especial colleagues, he resisted at the 
council of Nice, till Arius was banished, 
his books ordered to be burnt, and an 
edict issued denouncing death to any who 
secreted them. On the death of St. Alex- 
ander in 420, St. Athanasius succeeded 
to his patriarchal chair. 


The fogs of England have been at all 
times the complaint of foreigners. Gou- 
domar, the Spanish ambassadcr, when 



some one who was going to Spain waited 
on him to ask whether he had any com- 
mands, replied, " Only my compliments 
to the sun, whom I have not seen since 
[ came to England." — Carraccioli, the 
Neapolitan minister here, a man of a good 
deal of conversation and wit, used to say, 
that the only ripe fruit he had seen in 
England were roasted apples .' and in a 
conversation with George ]I. he took the 
\iberty of preferring the ttioon of Naples 
to the sun of England. 

On seeing- a Ladv walking in the Snow. 

I saw fair Julia walk alone, 

When feather'd rain came softly down. 

'Twas Jove descending from liis tower. 

To court her in a silver shower, 

A Wanton flake flew on her breast,' 

As liiippy ilove into its nest, 

But rivall'd by the whiteness there, 

For grief dissolv'd into a tear, 

And falling to her garment's hem. 

To deck her waist, froze to a gem. 


Lesser Periwinkle. Finca minor. 
Dedicated to Ht. Victor. 

jTcbruarp 27. 

'Time is the stuff' that life is made of,' 
says Young. 

" Begone about your business," says the 
dial in theXemple: a good admonition to 
a loiterer on the pavement below. 

The great P"rench chancellor, d'Agues- 
seau, employed all his time. Observing that 
madame d'Aguesseau always delayed ten 
or twelve minutes before she came down 
to dinner, he composed a work entirely in 
this time, in order not to lose an instant; 
the result was, at the end of fifteen years, 
a book in three large volumes quarto, 
which went through several editions. 

St. Leandcr, Bishop, a. d. 596. St. Ju- 
lian, Chronion, and Besas. St. Tha- 
lilcEus. St. Gahnier, or Baldomerus, 
A. D. 650. St. Nestor, a. d. 250. St. 

St. TlialilcBus. 
This saint was a weeper in Syria. He 
hermitized on a mountain during sixty 
years, wept almost without intermission 
for his sins, and lived for ten years in a 
■wooden cage. 

St. Gahnier 
Was a locksmith at Lyons, and lived in 
great poverty, for he bestowed all he got 
on the poor, and sometimes his tools. An 
abbot gave him a cell to live in, he died 
a subdeacon about 650, and his relics 
worked miracles to his fame, till the Hu- 
gonots destroyed them in the sixteenth 

St. /ilaoth 

Was bailiff to St. Wereburge, became 
an anchoret, was killed by robbers, and 
had his relics kept at Stow, near Wedon, 
'n Northamptonshire. 


Lungw ort. Pulmonaria Officinalis. 
Dedicated to Leander. 

4ftl)niarj) 28. 

Martyrs to the Pestilencein Alexandria, 
261, Sec. St. Proterius, Patriarch of Alex- 
andria, 557. Sts. Romanus and Lupi- 

Sts. Roma?ms and Lupiciiats. 

These saints were brothers, who founded 
the monastery of Condate with a nunnery, 
in the forest of Jura. St. Lupicinus pre- 
scribed a hard regimen. He lived himself 
on bread moistentd with cold water, used 
a chair or a hard board for a bed, wore no 
stockings in his monastery, walked in 
wooden shoes, and died about 480. 


Purple Crocus. Crocus vermis. 
Dedicated to St. Proterius. 

Five Sundays in February. 
The February of 1824, being leap-year, 
consisted of twenty-nine days ; it con- 
tained five Sundays, a circumstance which 
cannot again occur till another leap-year, 
wherein the fiist of Febiuary shall fall oa 


Old Memorandum of the Months. 

Thirty days hath September, 
April, June, and November, 
All the rest have thirty and one. 
Except February, which hath twenty-eight 




— Sturdy March witli brows full sternly bent 
And armed strongly, rode upon a ram , 
The same which over Helle.spontus swam; 

Yet in his hand a spade lie also lient, 
And in a bag all sorts of weeds ysame. 

Which on the earth he strewed as he went. 

And fiU'd her womb with fruitfull hope of nourishment. 


M A Rcn is the third month of the year ; 
with tlie ancients it was the first : ac- 
cording to Mr. Leigh Hunt, from Ovid, 
tlie Romans named it from Mars, the god 
of war, because lie was the father of their 
first prince. " As to the deity's nature, 
March has certainly notliing in common 
with it; for though it affects to be very 
rough, it is one of the best natured months 
in the year, drying up the superabundant 
moisture of winter with its fierce winds, 
and thus restoring us our paths through 
the fields, and piping before the flowers 
like a bacchanal. He sometimes, it must 
^e confessed, as if in a fit of the spleen, 
hinders the buds which he has dried from 
blowing ; and it is allowable in the less 
robust part of his friends wut of doors, to 
object to the fancy he has for coming in 
Buch a cutting manner from the east. But 
it may be truly said, that the oftener you 

meet him firmly, the less he will shake 
you ; and the more smiles you will have 
from the fair months that follow him." 

Perhaps the ascription of this month to 
Mars, by the Romans, was a compliment 
to themselves; they were the sons of 
War, and might naturally deduce their 
origin from the belligerent deity. Minerva 
was also patroness of March. 

Verstegan says of our Saxon ancestors, 
that " the moneth of March they called 
Lenct-monat, that is, according to our new 
orthography, Leiiffth-moneth, because the 
dayes did then first begin in length to 
exceed the nights. And this moneth 
being by our ancestors so called wheu 
they received Christianity, and conse- 
quently therewith the ancient chnstiac 
custome of fasting, they called this chiefe 
season of fasting the fast of Lend, because 
of the Lenct-mo7iatf whereon the most 



part (if tKf time of this fasting aUvayes 
fell ; and hereof it cometh that we now 
cal it Lent, it being rather the fast of 
Lent, thogh the former name of Lenct- 
vionat be long since lost, and the name of 
March borrowed in stead thereof." Lend, 
or Lent, however, means Spring ; hence 
March was the Spring-mouih. Dr. Sayer 
says the Saxons likewise called it Rhed- 
ti07iatfi,s. word derived by some from one of 
their deities, named lllieda, to whom sacri- 
fices were offered in March; others derive 
it from rend, the Saxon word for council, 
March being the month wherein wars or 
expeditions were usually undertaken by 
the Gothic tribes. The Saxons also called 
it Hlyd-monath, from hlyd, which means 
stormy, an I in this sense March was the 
Stormy month. 

No living writer discourses so agreea- 
bly on the " Months" as Mr. Leigh Hunt 
m his little volume bearing that title. He 
says of March, that — "The animal creation 
now exhibit unequivocal signs of activity. 
The farmer extends the exercise of his 
ploKgh; and, if fair weather continues, 
iegins sowing barley and oats. Bats and 
•eptiles break up their winter sleep : the 
little smelts or sparlings run up the s-oft- 
tned rivers to spawn : the field-fare and 
woodcock return to tlieir northern quar- 
ters ; the rooks are all in motion with 
building and repairing their nests; hens 
sit ; geese and ducks lay ; pheasants crow ; 
the ring-dove coos ; young lambs come 
tottering forth in mild weather; the 
throstle warbles on the top of some naked 
tree, as if he triumphed over the last lin- 
gering of barrenness ; and, lastly, forth is- 
sues the bee with his vernal trumpet, to 
tell us that there is news of sunshine and 
the flowers. — In addition to the last 
month's flowers, we now have the crown- 
imperial, the dog's-tooth violet, fritillaries, 
the hyacinth, narcissus, (bending its face 
like its namesake,) pilewort, scarlet ranun- 
culus, great snow-drop, tulips, (which 
turned even the Dutch to enthusiasts,) and 
violets, proverbial for their odour, which 
were perhaps the favourite flowers of 
Shakspeare. Tlie passage at the begin- 
ning of ' Twelfth Night,' in which he com- 
uares their scent with the passing sweet- 
ness of music is well-known, and proba- 
bly suggested the beautiful one in lord 
* Bacon's Essays,' about the superiority of 
flowers in the open air, • where the scent 

•omes and goes like the warbling of 
mns'c' " 

Now, Winter, dispossessed of siormSj 
and weak from boisterous rage, 

Ling'ring on the rerge of Spring, 

Retires reluctant, and from time to time 
Looks back, wliile at his keen and chilling 

Fair Flora sickens. 

iHaitl) 1. 

St. David, Archbishop, a. d. 544. St. 
Swidhert, or Swibert, a. d. 713. St. 
Albinus, Bishop, a. d. 549. St. Mo., 
nan, a. d. 874. 


Patron of JFaliis. 
St. David, or, in Welcli, Dewid, was 
son of Xantus, prince of Cardiganshire, 
brought up a priest, became an ascetic in 
the Isle of Wight, afterwards preached to 
the Britons, founded twelve monasteries, 
ate only bread and vegetables, and drank 
milk and water. A synod being called 
at Brevy, in Cardiganshire, a. d. 519, iu 
order to suppress the heresy of Pelagius, 
" St. David confuted and silenced the 
infernal monster by his learning, elo- 
qi.ence, and miracles." After the synod, 
St. Dubritius, archbishop of Caerleon, re- 
signed his see to St. David, which see is 
now called St. David's. He died in 544. 
St. Kentigern saw his soul borne by angels 
to heaven; his body was in the church of 
St. Andrew. In 962, his relics were 
translated to Glastonbury.* 

Butler conceals that St. David's mother 
was not married to his father, but Ciessy 
tells the story out, and that his birth was 
prophecied of thirty years before it hap- 

One of the miracles alleged of St. David 
is, that at the anti-Pelagian synod he re- 
stored a child to life, ordered it to spread a 
napkin under his feet, and made an oration ; 
that a snow white dove descended from 
heaven and sat on his shoulders ; and that 
the ground whereon he stood rose under 
him till it became a hill, " on the top of 
which hill a church was afterwards built, 
which remains to this day." He assem. 
bled a provincial synod to confirm the de- 
crees of Brevy ; and wrote the proceedings 
of both synods for preservation in his 
own church, and to be sent lo the other 
churches of the province ; but they were 
lost by age, negligence, and the incursions 
of pirates, who almost every summer came 

* B'Jtler's Saiuts- 



iTi long boats fro.n the Orkneys, and wasted 
the coasts of Cambria. He invited St. 
Kined to this synod, who answered that 
he had grown crooked, distorted, and too 
weak for the journey ; whereupon ensued 
" a double miracle," for " St. Kined hav- 
ing been restored to health and straight- 
uess by the prayers of St. David, by his 
own prayers he was reduced again to his 
former intirmity and crookedness." After 
this synod he journeyed to the monastery 
of Glastonbury, which he had built there 
and consecrated, with intent to repair it, 
and consecrate it again ; whereupon " our 
Lord appearing to him in his sleep, 
and forbidding him to profane the 
«acred ceremony before performed, he, in 
estimony, with his finger pierced a hole 
.n the bishop's hand, which remained open 
o the view of all men till the end of the 
next day's mass." Before his death " the 
angel of the lord appeared to him, and 
said to him. Prepare thyself." Again: 
" When the hour of his departure was 
come, our Lord Jesus Christ vouchsafed 
his presence, to the infinite consolation of 
our holy father, who at the sight of him 
exulted." More to the same purpose is 
alleged by the catholic writers respecting 
him. Such as, that at his death " being 
associated to a troop of angels, he with 
them mounted up to heaven," and that 
the event was known " by an angel di- 
vulging it." This is Cressy's account. 

According to another biographer of St. 
David, he was uncle to the famous prince 
Arthur, or, strictly speaking, half uncle, if 
St. David's illegitimacy be authentic. The 
same author relates of him, that on his 

way from building the church of Glaston- 
bury he went to Bath, cured an infection 
of the waters, and by his prayers and be- 
nediction gave them the perpetual heat 
they still retain. On the same authority, 
St. David's posthumous virtue, in the reign 
of king Stephen, occasioned the brook 
above the church-yard of St. David's 
church to run wine, by miracle : the well 
near it, called Pisteldewy or the conduit 
of David, sent forth milk instead of 
water. Also a boy, that endeavoured to 
take pigeons from a neat in St. David's 
church at Lliannons, had his fingers mi- 
raculously fastened to the stone, till by his 
friends' watching, fasting, and praying 
before the altar three days and nights, the 
stone fell from his hand. " Manie thou- 
sands of other miracles have been wrought 
by the meritts of this holy man, which for 
brevities sake we omitt. 1 only desire all 
true hearted VVelchmen allwaies to ho- 
nour this their great pairone and protec- 
tor, and supplicate the divine goodnes to 
reduce his sometimes beloved countrey out 
of the blindnes of Protestancie, groveling 
in which it lang lisheth. Not only in 
Wales, but all England over is most fa- 
mous in memorie of St. David. But in 
these our unhappie dales the greatest part 
of his solemnitie consisteth in wearing of 
a greene leeke, and it is a sufficient theme 
for a zealous Welchman to ground aquar- 
rell against him, that doeth not honour 
liis capp with the like ornament that 
day." So saith Porter. 

This legend has been the theme of suc- 
cessive writers, with more or less of varia- 
tion, and much of addition. 

Inscription for a monument in the Vale of Ewias. 

Here was it, stranger, that the Patron Saint 

Of Cambria past his age of penitence, 

A solitary man ; and here he made 

His hermitage, the roots his food, his drink 

Of Hodney's mountain stream. Perchance thy youth 

Has read, with eager wonder, how the knight 

Of Wales, in Ormandine's enchanted bower 

Slept the long sleep : and if that in thy veins 

Flow the pure blood of Britain, sure that blood 

Hath flowed with quicker impulse at the tale 

Of David's deeds, when thro' the press of war 

His gallant comrades followed his ^reen crest 

To conquest. Stranger ! HatterDl's mountain heights 

And this fair vale of Ewias, and the stream 

Of Hodney, to thine after-thoughts will ri.TO 

More grateful, thus associate with the name 

Of Da'^id, and the deeds of other days. 

Mr. Soutiiey 



M* 2Babu)*£J Baiv 

JVear'iHg the Leek. 

Mr. Brady, in the " Clavis Calendaria," 
affirms that the custom of wearing the 
leek on St. David's day is derived from 
St. David ; who, according to him, caused 
the Britons under king Cadvvallader to 
distinguish themselves from their enemies 
during a great battle, wherein they con- 
quered the Saxons by virtue of his prayers 
and that regulation. Unfortunately he 
lays no ground for this positive statement, 
and the same misfortune attends almost 
every representation in his book, which 
would really be useful if he had pointed 
to his sources of information. A work 
professing to state facts without referring 
to authorities has no claim to confidence, 
whoever may be its author. 

For any thing in the shape of ancient 
and authentic statement to the contrai-y, 
the institution of wearing the leek on St, 
David's day by the saint himself, may 
rest on a Jeffrey of Monmouth authority, 
or on legends of no higher estimation 
with the historian, than " The famous 
History of the Seven Champions of Chris- 
tendom," by Richard Johnson. 

Shakspeare, whose genius appropriated 
every thmg that his extraordinary faculty 
of observation marked for its own, intro- 
duces this custom of the Welch wearing 
leeks upon St. David's day into his play 
of King Henry V. 

Enter Pistol to King Henry. 

Pistol. Qui va la ? 

K. Henry. A friend. 

P. What's thy name? 

K. H. Harry le Roy. 

P. Le Roy ! a Cornish name : art thou 
of Cornish crew ? 

K. H. No, I am a Welchman. 

P. Knovvest thou Fluellen ? 

K.H. Yes. 

P. Tell him, I'll knock his leek about 
his pate 
Upon St. David's day. 

K. H. Do not you wear your dagger in 
your cap that day, lest he knock that about 

It is again referred to in a dialogue be- 
tween Henry V. and Fluellen. 

Fluellen. Your grandfather of famous 

memory, an't please your majesty, and yoitf 
great-uncle, Kdward, the black prince, as 
1 have read in the chronicles, fought a 
most prave pattle here in France. 

K. Henry. They did, Fluellen. 

F. Your majesty says very true; if your 
majesties is remembered of it, the Welch- 
men did goot service in a garden where 
ieeks did grow, wearing leeks in their Mon- 
mouth caps ; which, your majesty knows, 
is an honourable padge of the service ; 
and, I do believe, your majesty takes no 
scorn to wear the leek upon SaintTavys day 

K. H. I ivear it for a memorable 
honour -.for I am a IFelch, you know, good 

This allusion by Fluellen to the Welch 
having worn the leek in a battle under the 
black prmce, is not, perhaps, as some 
writers suppose, wholly decisive of its 
having originated in the fields of Cressy or 
Poictiers ; but it shows that when Shak- 
speare wrote, Welchmen wore leeks. In 
the same play, the well-remembered 
Fluellen's enforcement of Pistol to eat 
the leek he had ridiculed, further establishes 
the wearing it as a usage. Fluellen wears 
his leek in the battle of Agincourt, which 
it will be recollected takes place in this 
play, and is there mentioned, as well as 
in the chronicles, to have been " fought 
on the day of Crispin Crispianus," in the 
month of October. The scene between 
Fluellen and Pistol takes place the day 
after this battle. 

Enter Fluellen and Gotver. 

Gotver. W^hy wear you your leek i(y> 
day ? St. David's day is past. 

Fluellen. There is occasions and causes 
why and wherefore in all things. — The 
rascally, scald, peggarly, pragging knave, 
Pistol, a fellow look you now of no merits 
he is come to me with pread and salt yes 
terday, look you, and pid me eat my leek . 
it was in a place where I could not preed 
no contentions with him, but I will be so 
pold as to wear it m my cap till I see him 
once again, and then — {Enter Pistol) — 
Got pless you, ancient Pistol ! you scurvy 
knave, Got pless you ! 

P. Hence ! I am qualmish at the smell 
of leek. 



(7. T ppseech you heartily scur\7 knave, 
ai my desires, and my requests, and my 
Detitions, to eat, look you, this leek. 

P. Not for Cadwallader, and all his 

F. There is one goat for you. {strikea 
him.) Will you be so goot, scald knave, as 
eat it ? 

P. Base Trojan, thou shall die. 

F. I desire you to live in the mean 
time, and eat your victuals ; come there is 
sauce for it. — {strikes him.) If you can 
mock a leek, you can eat a lack. 

By beating and taunt, Fluellen forces 
Pistol to eat the leek, and on its being 
wholly svpallowed, Fluellen exhorts him 
" when you take occasions to see leeks 
hereafter, I pray you, mock at them, that 
IS all !" Having thus accomplished his 
purpose, Fluellen leaves Pistol to digestion, 
and the consolation of Gower, who calls 
him "counterfeit cowardly knave: will 
you mock at an ancient tradition, begun 
upon an honourable aspect, and worn as a 
memorable trophy of predeceased valour, 
and dare not avouch in your deeds any of 
your words ?" 

Here we have Gower speakmg of the 
custom of the Welch wearing leeks as " an 
ancient tradition," and as " a memorable 
trophy of predeceased valour.'' Thoroughly 
versed in the history of the few reigns pre- 
cedmg the period wherein he lived, it is 
not likely that Shakspeare would make a 
character in the time of Henry V. refer to 
ail occurrence under the black prince, 
little more than half a century before the 
battle of Agineourt, as an afi'air of " an- 
cient tradition." Its origin may be fairly 
referred to a very early period. 

A contributor to a periodical work* 
rejects the notion, that wearing leeks on St. 
David's day originated at the battle be- 
tween the Welch and the Saxons in the 
sixth century ; and thinks it more probable 
that leeks were a druidic symbol employ- 
ed in honour of the British Cendven 
or Ceres. In which hypothesis, he thinks, 
there is nothing strained or far-fetched, 
presuming that the Druids were a branch 
of the PhcEnician priesthood. Both were 
addicted to oak worship ; and during the 
funereal rites of Adonis at Byblos, leeks 
and onions were exhibited in " pots with 
other vegetables, and called the gardens 
of that deity." The leek was worshipped 
at Ascalon, (whence the modern term of 
Scallionsy) as it was in Egypt. Leeks and 

• «' Oaiette of Fasliion," March 9, 1822. 

onions were also deposited in the sacred 
chests of the mysteries both of Isis and 
Ceres, the Ceudven of the Druids ; teefe 
are among the Egyptian hieroglyphics ; 
sometimes a leek is on the head of Osiris ; 
and at other times grasped in an extended 
hand ; and thence, perhaps, the Italian 
proverb, " Porro che Jiasce nella mano" 
a leek that grows in the hand, for a virtue. 
Porrus, a leek, is derived by Bryant from 
the Egyptian god Pi-orus, who is the 
same as the Beat Peor of the Phoenicians, 
and the Bel or Bellinis of the Druids 
These accordances are worth an ancient 
Briton's consideration. 

Ridicule of national peculiarities was 
formerly a pleasantry that tli« English 
freely indulged in. They seemed to think 
that different soil was good ground 
for a laugh at a person, and that it 
justified coarse and insolent remarks. In 
an old satirical tract there is the following 
sneer at the Welch: 

" A WELCHMAN, Is the Oyster that 
the Pearl is in, for a man may be pickt 
out of him. He hath the abilities of the 
mind in potentid, and acta nothing but 
boldnesse. His Clothes are in fashion 
before his Bodie; and he accounts bold- 
nesse the chiefest vertue. Above all men 
he loves a Herrald, and speakes pedi- 
grees naturally. He accompts none well 
descended that call him not Cosen, and 
prefers Oicen Glendower before any of 
the nine worthies. The first note of his 
familiaritie is the confession of his valour ; 
and so he prevents quarrels. Hee 
voucheth Welch a pure, an unconquered 
language ; and courts Ladies with the 
storie of their Chronicle. To conclude, 
he is pretious m his own conceit, and 
upon St. David's day without com- 

Not quite so flouting is a poetical satire 
The Welchmmi's Song in praise of Wales 

I's come not here to tauke of Prut, 
From whence the Welse dos take hur root j 
Nor tell long pedegree of Prince Camber, 
Whose linage would fill full a chamber ; 
Nor sing the deeds of ould Saint Davie, 
The Ursip of which would fill a navie, 
But hark you me now, for a liddell tales 
Sail make a great deal to the creddit of VValea, 

"A wife, now the widdow of sir Thomas Overburve, 
being a most exquisite and singular poem of fiis 
choice of a wife, wlicreunto are added many tritfy 
characters," &c. London, printed f«i VawreuM 
Lisle, 4to. IC14. 



For Imr will tudge your eares, 
Witli the praise of liur thirteen seers; 
And make you as glad and merry, 
As fourteen pot of perry. 

Tiiere are four other stanzas ; one of 
them mentions the leek : 

15ut all this while was never think 
A word in praise of our Welse drink : 
Yet for auU that is a cup of bragat 
AuU England seer may cast his cap at. 
And what you say to ale of Webley, 
Toudge him as well, you'll praise him trebly 
As well as metheglin, or syder, or meath, 
Sail sake it your dagger quite out o' the seath. 

And oat cake of Guarthenion, 

With a goodly leek or onion, 

To give as sweet a rellis 

As e'er did Harper Ellis.* 

In " Time's Telescope," an annual vo- 
lume alrealy mentioned for its pleasant 
varieties and agreeable information, there 
is a citation of flouting lines from " Poor 
Robin's Almanac," of 1757, under the 
month of March : 

T\\e/irsl of this vionth some do keep, 
For honest Taff to wear his leek ; 
Who patron was, they say, of Wales, 
And since that time, cuts-plutter-a nails. 
Along the street this day doth strut 
With hur green leek stuck in hur hat, 
And if hur meet a shentleman 
Salutes in Welch ; and if hur can 
Discourse in Welch, then hur shall be 
Amongst the green-horned Tafty's free. 

The lines that immediately succeed the 
above, and follow below, are a versified 
record of public violence to the Welch 
character, which Englishmen in this day 
will read with surprise ; 

But it would make a stranger laugh 
To see th' English hang poor Taff; 
A pair of breeches and a coat. 
Hat, shoes and stockings, and what not j 
All stuffed with hay to represent 
The Cambrian hero thereby meant ; 
With sword sometimes three inches broad, 
And other armour made of wood. 
They drag hur to some publick tree. 
And hang hur up in effigy. 

These barbarous practices of more 
barbarous times have disappeared as 
knowledge has advanced. 

tablished in 1714 ; thsy celebrate it with 
festivity in behalf of the Welch charity 
school in Grays-inn-road, which was 
instituted in 1718 for boarding, cloth- 
ing, and educating 80 boys and 25 
girls, born of Welch parents, in or with- 
in ten miles of the metropolis, and not 
having a parochial settlement within 
those limits. This institution has the 
king for patron as prince of Wales, and 
is supported by voluntary contributions. 
The " Ancient Britons," according to 
annual custom, go in procession to the 
royal residence on St. David's day, and 
receive tlie royal bounty. The society 
are in carriages, and each v.ears an 
artificial representation of the leek in his 
hat, composed of ribbands and silver foil 
They have been sometimes accompanied 
by horsemen decorated in the same way, 
and are usually preceded by marshals, 
also on horseback, wearing leeks of larger 
dimension in their hats, and ornamented 
with silk scarfs. In this state they pro- 
ceed from the school-house to some adja- 
cent church, and hear a discourse delivered 
on the occasion, by a prelate or other 
dignified clergyman. The day is con- 
cluded by an elegant dinner under the 
regulation of stewards, when a collection 
is made for the institution, and a hand- 
some sum is generally contributed. 


I-eek. Album Porrnm. 
Dedicated to St. David. 

St, David's day in London is the An- 
niversary of " the most Honourable and 
Loyal Society of Ancient Britons," es- 

* " An Antidote against Melancholy," 4fc. 1661. 

St. Ceada, or Chad. Martyrs under the 
Lombards, 6th Cent. St. Simplicius, Pope 
A. D. 483. St. Marnan, a. d. 620. St. 
Charles the Good, Earl of Flanders, A. d. 
1124. St. Joavan, or Joevin. 
St. Chad, A.D. 673. 

His name is in the calendar of the 
church of England. He was founder of 
the see, and bishop of Lichfield. Ac- 
cording to Bede, joyful melody as of per- 
sons sweetly singing descended from 
heaven into his oratory for half an hour, 
and then mounted again to heaven. This 
was to presage his death, and accord 
ingly he died, attended by his brotherlj 
soul and musical angels. 

St. Chad's JFell 

Is near Battle-bridge. The miraculous 
water is aperient, and was some years ago 
quaffed by the bilious and other invalids, 
who flocked thither in crowds, to drink at 

Vol. I. 




tlip cost of sixpence, what peopleof these 
latter da} s by " the ingenious chemists' 
art," can make as (ffectual as St. Chad's 
viitues," at the small price of one half- 

If any one desire to visit this spot of 
ancient renown, let him descend from 
Holborn-bars to the very bottom of Grays- 
inr-lane. On ihe left-hand side for- 
merly stood a considerable hill, whereon 
were wont to climb and browze certain 
mountain goats of the metropqjis, in com- 
mon language called swine ; the hill was 
the largest heap of cinder-dust in the 
neighbourhood of London. It was formed 
by the annual accumulation of some 
thousands of cart loads, since exported to 
Russia for making bricks to rebuild Mos- 
cow, after the conflagration of that capital 
on the entrance of Napoleon. Opposite 
to this unsightly site, and on the right- 
hand side gf the road is an angle-wise 
faded inscription : 

It stands, or rather dejects, over an 
elderly pair of wooden gates, one where- 
of opens on a scene which the unaccus- 
tomed eye may take for the pleasure- 
ground of Giant Despair. Trees stand as 
if made not to vegetate, clipped hedges 
seem willing to decline, and nameless 
weeds straggle weakly upon unlimited 
borders. If you look upwards you per- 
ceive painted on an octagon board 
" Health Restored and Preserved." Fur- 
ther on towards the left, stands a low, 
old-fashioned, comfortable-looking, large 
windowed dwelling; and ten to one, 
but there also stands, at the open door, 
an ancient ailing female, in a black 
bonnet, a clean coloured cotton gown, and 
a check apron ; her silver hair only 
in part tucked beneath the narrow border 
of a frilled cap, with a sedate and patient, 
yet, somewhat inquiring look. This is " the 
Lady of the fFell." She gratuitously 
informs you, that " the gardens" of 
" St. Chad's well" are " for circulation" 
by paying for the water, of which you 
may drink as much, or as little, or nothing, 
as you please, at one guinea per year, 
9*. 6d. quarterly, 4s. 6rf. monthly, or 

Is fd. weekly. You qualify for a single 
visit by paying sixpence, and a Jatge 
glas>- tumbler full of warm water is handed 
to you. As a stranger, you are told that 
Sf. Chad's well was famous at one time. 
Should you be inquisitive, the dame W'U 
instruct you, with an earnest eye, that 
" people are not what they were,'' " things 
are not as they used to be," and she 
" can't tell what'U happen next.'' Oracles 
have not ceased. While drinking St. 
Chad's water you observe an immense 
copper into which it is poured, wherein 
it is heated to due efficacy, and from 
whence it is drawn by a cock, into the 
glasses. You also remark, hanging on 
the wall, a " tribute of gratitude" versi- 
fied, and inscribed on vellum, beneath a 
pane of glass stained by the hand of time 
and let into a black frame : this is an 
effusion for value received from St Chad's 
invaluable water. But, above all, there 
is a full-sized portrait in oil, of a stout, 
comely personage, with a ruddy counte- 
nance, in a coat or cloak, supposed scar- 
let, a laced cravat falling down the breast, 
and a small red night cap carelessly 
placed on the head, conveying the idea 
that it was painted for the likeness of 
some opulent butcher who flourished in 
the reign of queen Anne. Ask the dame 
about it, and she refers you to " Rhone." 
This is a tall old man, who would be 
taller if he were not bent by years. " I 
am ninety-four," he will tell you, " this 
present year of our Lord, one thousand 
eight hundred and twenty-five." All that 
he has to communicate concerning the 
portrait is, " I have heard say it is the 
portrait of St. Chad." Should you ven- 
ture to differ, he adds, "this is the opinion 
of most people who come here." You 
may gather that it is his own undoubted 
belief. On pacing the garden alleys, 
and peeping at the places of retirement, 
you imagine the whole may have been 
improved and beautified for the last time 
by some countryman of William III., 
who came over and died in the same 
year with that king, and whose works 
here, in wood and box, have been follow- 
ing him piecemeal ever since. 

St Chad's well is scarcely known iij 
the neighbourhood, save by its sign-board 
of invitation and forbidding externals 
An old American loyalist, who has lived 
in Pentonville ever since " the rebellion" 
forced him to the mother country, enters 
to " totter not unseen" between the 
stunted hedo;erows : it was the first " place 



of pleasure'' he came to after liis arrival, 
and he goes no where besides, — " every 
thing else is so altered." For the same 
reason, a tall, spare, thin-faced man, with 
dull grey eyes and underhung chin, from 
the neighbourhood of Bethnal-green, 
walks hither fur his " Sunday morning's 
exercise," to untruss a theological point 
with a law clerk, who also attends the 
place because his father, " when he was 
prentice to Mr. the great law sta- 
tioner in Chancery-lane in 1776, and 
sat writing for sixteen hours a day, re- 
ceived great benefit from the waters, 
which he came to drink fasting, once a 
week." Such persons from local attach- 
ment, and a few male and female atrabi- 
larians, who without a powerful motive 
would never breathe the pure morning 
air, resort to this spot for their health. 
St. Chad's well is haunted, not frequented. 
A few years and it will be with its water 
as with the water of St. Pancras' well, 
which is enclosed in the garden of a 
private house, near old St.Pancras' church- 

Holy Wells. 

The holy wells of London have all de- 
clined in reputation, even to St. Bride's 
well, whose fame gave the name of Bride- 
well to an adjoining hospital and prison, 
and at last, attached the name to every 
house of correction throughout the kin^g- 
dom. The last public use of the water 
of St. Bride's well drained it so much, 
that the inhabitants of St. Bride's parish 
could not get their usual supply. This 
exhaustion was effected by a sudden de- 
mand. Several men were engaged in 
filling thousands of bottles, a day or two 
before the 19th of July 1821, on which 
day his majesty, king George IV^. was 
crowned at Westminster ; and Mr. Walker 
of the hotel. No. 10, Bridge-street, Black- 
friars, purveyor of water to the coronation, 
obtained it, by the only means through 
which the sainted fluid is now attainable, 
from the cast-iron pump over St. Bride's 
well, in Bride-lane. 


Dwarf Cerastium. Cerastium pumilum. 
Dedicated to St. Chad 

St. Cunegundes, Empress, a. v. 1040. 
Sts. Marinus and Asterius, or Astyrius. 
St. Emeterius, or Madir, and St. Cheli- 
dnnius. St. JVinwaloe, Abbot, a. d. 
529. St. Lamalisse, 7th Cent. 

Sts. Emeterius and Chelidonius. 

Two Spanish saints, famous against 
hailstorms. When hailstorms come on, 
the clergy proceed thus : 

1. They make a procession to the church. 

2. They put lighted candles on the altar. 

3. They sing a hymn to these saints. 

4. They chaunt the antiphona. 

5. They sing the praises of these saints. 
By the time this chain is linked, the 

storm finishes. 


On the 3d of March, 1792, died Robert 
Adam, Esq. He was born at Kirkaldy, 
in Fifeshire, in 1728, educated at the uni- 
versity of Edinburgh, devoted himself to 
architecture, went to Italy to study its 
ancient remains, became proficient in his 
profession, and rose to its highest ho- 
nours : he was appointed architect to 
their majesties, and chosen fellow of the 
Royal and Antiquarian Societies of Lon- 
don and Edinburgh. In conjunction with 
his brother, Mr. James Adam, who died 
20th November 1794, he built some of the 
finest of our modern mansions. His genius 
and acquirements adorned London with 
several structures, eminently superior in 
beauty to those which arose around 
him under the direction of other hands ; 
but the work for which the Adams are 
chiefly celebrated, is the elegant range of 
buildings called the Adelphi. This Greek 
word, denoting the relationship of brothers, 
was conferred in compliment to the 
brothers, by whose intellect and science, 
in opposition to long vitiated taste, and 
difiiculties deemed impracticable, these 
edifices were elevated. It is related that 
soon after their completion, a classically 
educated gentleman being present at a 
public dinner, and intending to toast the 
Messrs. Adams, who were also present, 
begged to give "the Adelphi ;"and that this 
occasioned a worthy citizen to exclaim 
'* Bless me ! it's a very odd toast ; what 



drink the health of a parcel of houses \ 
However, oh, oh ! ah, ah ! I see ! yes, yes ! 
oh, the witty rogue ! What, the street's in 
a healthy spot? so it is; very healthy! 
Come I'll drink its health with all my 
heait '.—Here's the Adelphi Terrace ! I'll 
stand up to it, {rising) and 1 hope it will 
never go down !" 

Garrick resided in one of the houses of 
the Adelphi until his death, and was a 
friend of the Adams, who indeed were 
intimate with most of the eminent men 
in art and literature. Before the Adelphi 
was finished, the late Mr. Thomas Becket, 
the bookseller, desired the corner house 
of Adam-street, then building as a spa- 

cious avenue by the Adams to their terrace 
and the adjacent thoroughfares. Garrick 
anxious to secure the commanding corner 
for his friend Becket, wrote a warm- 
hearted letter in his behalf to Messrs. 
Adam. The letter has never been pub- 
lished, and being in the possession of the 
editor of the Every-Day Book, he inserts 
a copy of it, with a correct facsimile of 
the commencement and conclusion. This 
hasty unstudied note, warm from the 
feelings, is testimony of Garrick's zeal 
for a friend's success, and of his qualifi- 
cations as a solicitor to promote it : there 
is in it 

a grace beyond the reach of art. 

I forgot to speak to you last Saturday about our friend Becket. — We shall all break 
our hearts if he is not bookseller to y* Adelphi, & has not y* corner house that is to 
be built. — Pray, my dear & very good friends, think a little of this matter, & if you 
can make us happy, by suiting all our conveniences — ^we shall make his shop, as old 
Jacob Tonson's was formerly, y* rendevouz for y« first people in England. — I have a 
little selfishness in this request — I never go to coffee-houses, seldom to taverns, & 
should constantly (if this scheme takes place) be at Becket's at one at noon, & 6 at 
night ; as y^ monkey us'd to be punctual in Piccadilly. 

When you left me on Saturday, whether I had exerted my spirits too much, or gave 
too great a loose to my love of drinking with those I like, I know not ; but I wa 
attack'd teriibly with a fit of ye stone, & had it all yesterday morning, till I was 
relieved from torture, to ye great joy of my wife & family. — I was 4 hours upon ye 
rack, & now as free from pain as ever I was. I am weak w^ my disorder ; but I could 
eat turtle, & laugh with you again to day, as if nothing had ail'd me— 'tis a curs'd 
disorder, 8c that you may never have that curse make y peace w"> heav'n by an act 



of righteousness, & bestow that corner blessing (I have mention'd) upon Bcctpt 
his family — this is y^ pray'r & petition 

Mr. Becket had the " corner blessing" 
conferred upon him. — He removed into 
the house from another part of the Strand, 
and remained tenant to the " Adelphi," 
until he retired into Pall Mall. 


Golden Fig Marygold. Mesembrianthe- 

mnm aureum. 

Dedicated to St. Cunegundes. 


St. Casimir. St. Lucius, Pope, a. d. 253. 

St. Adrian, Bishop, a. d. 874. 
St. Casimir, 

Was born a prince on the 5th of Octo- 
ber, 1458, and died 4th March, 1482. He 
was second son of Casimir III. king of 
Poland ; and, according to Ribadeneira, he 
wore under his princely attire a prickly 
hair shirt, fasted rigorously, prayed at night 
till he fell weary and exhausted on the 
bare floor; often in the most sharp and bit- 
ter weather went barefoot to church at mid- 
night, and lay on his face before the door ; 
studied to advance the catholic religion, 
and to extinguish or drive heresy out of Po- 
land ; persuaded his father to enact a law 
that no new church should be built for 
heretics, nor any old ones repaired ; in a 
particular virtue " surpassed the angels ;" 
committed suicide;resigned his soul amidst 
choirs of priests ; had it carried to heaven 
surrounded with a clear bright light by 
angels; and thirty-six years after his death 
he appeared in glittering armour and gal- 
lantly mounted ; led the Polish army 
through an impassable river, and con- 
quered the M'uscovites ; and the next year 

marched before his beloved Poles in the 
air against the enemy, and as " he beat 
them before, so he beat them again,'' 

On the 4th of March, 1583, died Ber- 
nard Gilpin. He was born at Kentmire, 
inWestmoreland,1517, sent toQueen's col- 
lege, Oxford, in 1553, read the writings of 
Erasmus, excelled in logic and philosophy, 
and studied Greek and Hebrew ; being a 
Catholic he held a public disputation against 
John Hooper, the Protestant, who was 
martyred at the stake under Henry VHI 
Appointed to hold a disputation against 
Peter Martyr, another eminent reformer, 
who read the divinity lecture in Oxford, 
he diligently studied the scriptures and the 
writings of the early fathers, and "was not 
sorry to be overcome by the truth." Cuth- 
bert Tunstall, bishop of Durham, gave him 
a living, which he shortly afterwards re- 
signed, because he desired to travel, and 
could not hold it while absent with peace 
of conscience. " But," saith the bishop, 
" thou mayst hold it with a dispensation, 
and thou shalt be dispensed withal." To 
this Gilpin answered, that when he should 
be called on for an account of his steward 
ship, he feared it would not serve his turn 
to answer, that he had been " dispensed 
withal." Whereupon the bishop admired, 
and " Father's soul !" said he, " Gilpin wil 
die a beggar." He afterwards went to 
Lovaine and Paris, from whence he re- 
turned to England in the days of queen 
Mary; and bishop Tunstall gave him 
the rectory of Essingdon, by which he be- 
came archdeacon of Durham, and preached 
on scriptural authority against tks vices in 



ilie church. Those who hated his integrity 
and feared his talents, sought his blood by 
insnariug controversy. He avoided vain 
jangling, and beat his adversaries in solid 
argument. At one of these disputations, 
carried on in an under tone vyith bishop 
Tunstall's chaplains, and close behind the 
bishop, who was sitting before the fire, the 
bishop, leaning his chair somewhat back- 
wards, hearkened to what was said ; and 
when they had done, turning to his 
chaplains, " Father's soul !" said the 
bishop, " let him alone, for he hath more 
learning than you all." He was twice ac- 
cused of heresy to Tunstall, who abhorred 
to shed blood ; but information being given 
against him to Bonner, bishop of London, 
an order was issued for his apprehension. 
Gilpin had intelligence of the danger, yet 
he only provided against it by ordering 
William Airy, his house steward, to pro- 
vide a long garment, that he might go the 
more comely to the stake. The sudden 
death of Mary cleared off the impending 
storm. Not longafterwards,bishopTunstall 
presented Gilpin to the rectory of Hough- 
ton, a large parish with fourteen villages, 
which he laboriously served. He built 
a grammar school, from whence he sent 
students almost daily to the university, 
and maintamed them there at his own 
cost. Honoured by the wise, and re- 
spected by the noble, the earl of Bedford 
solicited from queen Elizabeth the vacant 
bishopric of Carlisle for Gilpin. A conge 
d'elire was accordingly issued, but Gilpin 
resisted the dignity against all entreaties. 
" If I had been chosen to a bishopric 
elsewhere," he said, " I would not have 
refused it ; but in Carlisle I have many 
friends and kindred, at whom I must con- 
nive in many things, not without hurt to 
myself, or else deny them many things, 
not without hurt to them, which difficul- 
ties I have avoided by the refusal of that 
bishopric." He was chosen provost of his 
own (Queen's) college in Oxford, but this 
advancement he also declined. Yet he 
did the office and work of a bishop, by 
preaching, taking care of the poor, pro- 
viding for the necessities of other churches, 
erecting schools, encouraging learned men, 
and keeping open house to all that 
needed. Cecil, lord Burleigh, the queen's 
secretary, having visited Gilpin at Hough- 
ton, on his return towards Durham, when 
he came to Rain ton-hill, reflected his eye 
upon the open country he had passed, and 
looking earnestly upon Gilpin's house, 
said, " I do not blame this man for refusing 
a bishopric. What doth he want that a 

bisliopric could more enrich him withal! 
besides that he is free from the great 
weight of cares." Gilpin annually visited 
the people of Ridsdale and Tindale, and 
was " little else than adored by that hall 
barbarous and rustic people." When at 
Rothbury, in these parts, " there was a 
pestilent faction among some of them 
who were wont to resort to the church ; 
the men being bloodily minded, practised 
a bloody manner of revenge, termed by 
them a deadly feud :" if one faction came 
to the church the other kept away, inas- 
much as they could not meet without 
bloodshed. It so happened that when 
Gilpin was in the pulpit both parties came 
to the church ; one party stood in the chan- 
cel, the other in the body of the church. 
Each body was armed with swords and 
javelins,and their weapons makinga clash- 
ing sound, Gilpin, unaccustomed to such 
a spectacle, was somewhat moved, yet he 
proceeded with his sermon. A second 
time the weapons clashed ; the one side 
drew near to the other; and they were 
about to coimneiK'O i)attle in the church. 
Gilpin descended, stepped to the leaders 
on each side, appeased the tumult, and 
laboured to establish peace between them ; 
but he could only obtain from these rude 
borderers, that they would not break the 
peace while Mr. Gilpin remained. On 
this he once more ascended the pulpit, 
and spent the allotted time in inveighing 
against this unchristian and savage cus- 
tom, and exhorthig them to forego it for 
ever. Another incident, further illustrat- 
ing the manners of the people, will be 
mentioned below ; it may be added here, 
however, that afterwards, when he revisit- 
ed these parts, any one who dreaded a 
deadly foe, found himself safer in Gilpin's 
presence than with armed guards. In his 
younger years, while on a ride to Oxford, 
Gilpin overtook a youth who was one 
while walking, and at another time run- 
ning. He found that the lad came from 
Wales, knew Latin, had a smattering of 
Greek, and was bound for Oxford, with 
intent to be a scholar. " Wilt thou," said 
Gilpin, *' be contented to go with me ? I 
will provide for thee." The youth as- 
sented, Gilpin took him first to Oxford, 
afterwards to Houghton, where he im- 
proved him exceedingly in Greek and 
Hebrew, and sent him at last to Oxford. 
This youth was the learned Hugh Brough- 
ton ; he is said to have requited this pro- 
tection and care by something worse than 
inconstancy. Gilpin's nature was kind 
and charitable, he visited sick cbarabcs 



and prisons, and dispensed large boun- 
ties. He was firm in rectitude ; and hence, 
on one occasion, when bishop Tunstall 
had inclined to his enemies, and insisted 
on Gilpin's preaching, sorely against the 
good man's petitions to be excused, and 
repeated refusals, he at length mounted 
the pulpit, and concluded his discourse by 
denouncing the enormities in the bishop's 
diocese ; looking at Tunstall, he said 
"Lest your lordship should make answer, 
that you had no notice of these things 
given you, behold, 1 bring them to your 
knowledge. Let not your lordship say 
these crimes have been committed by the 
faults of others, without your knowledge ; 
for whatsoever either yourself shall do in 
person, or suffer through your connivance 
to be done by others, is wholly your own. 
Therefore," thundered forth the faithful 
preacher, " in presence of God, his angels 
and man, I pronounce your fatherhood to 
be the author of all these evils ; yea, and, 
m that strict day of the general account, I 
shall be a witness to testify against you, 
that all these things have come to your 
knowledge by my means : and all these 
men shall bear witness thereof, who 
have heard me speaking unto you this 
day." Gilpin's adherents, terrified at this 
unexpected and bold address, apprehend- 
ed the worst consequences from the 
bishop's power. " You have," said they, 
" put a sword into his hand to slay you. 
If heretofore he hath been offended with 
you without a cause, what may you now 
expect from him who, being provoked, 
shall make use of his own power to in- 
jure you by right or wrong." Gilpin an- 
swered, " Be not afraid ; the Lord God 
over-ruleth us all ; so that the truth may 
be propagated, and God glorified, God's 
will be done concerning me." After din- 
ner, Gilpin waited on the bishop to take 
leave of him, and return home. " It 
shall not be so," said the bishop, " for I 
will bring you to your house." When they 
arrived at Mr. Gilpin's house, and had en- 
tered the parlour, the bishop on a sudden 
caught Mr. Gilpin by the hand, and ad- 
dressed him in these words : — " Father 
Gilpin, I acknowledge you are fitter to be 
bishop of Durham, than myself to be par- 
ton of this church of yours ; I ask forgive- 
aess for errors past; forgive me, father. I 
know you have hatched up some chickens 
that now seek to pick out your eyes ; but 
so long as I shall live bishop of Durham, 
be secure : no man shall injure you " 
Tlius the fearless integrity of Gilpin, by 

which it was conceived he had jeopard- 
ized his life, saved him trom his enemies 
and advanced him beyond the reach of 
their further hate. 

After a life excellent for kindness, cha- 
rity, and faithful dealing towards the peo- 
ple intrusted to his care, he died at the 
age of sixty-six worn out by labour in 
well doing. 


Chickweed. Alsine media. 
Dedicated to St. Casimir. 

iHard) 5. 

Sts. Adrian and Eubulus, a. d. 309. 
St. Kiaran, or Kenerin. St. Roger, a. d. 

St. Piran. 

Tliis saint, anciently of good repute in 
Cornwall, is not mentioned by Butler. 
According to Porter he was born in Ire- 
land, and became a hermit there. He 
afterwards came to England, and settling 
at Cornwall, had a grave made for him, 
entered into it, and dying on the 6th of 
March, " in the glorie of a great light and 
splendour that appeared at the same 
instant," was buried at Padstow. " He 
is reported," says Porter, " to have 
wi'ought manie wonderfuU miracles in his 
lifetime, which bicause they tend rather 
to breed an incredulous amazement in the 
readers, then move to anie workes of ver- 
tues or pietie, we have willingly omitted." 
We have had a specimen of such miracles 
as father Porter deemed worthy of belief ; 
those of St. Piran which would have caused 
" incredulous amazement" in Porter's rea- 
ders must have been " passing wonder- 

iS^ Piran's day is said to be a favourite 
with the tinners ; having a tradition that 
some secrets regarding the manufac- 
ture of tin was communicated to their 
ancestors by that saint, they leave the ma- 
nufacture to shift for itself for that day 
and keep it as a holiday. 

floral directory. 

Green Hellebore. Helleborus viridis. 

Dedicated to St. Adrian. 

ilarcl) 6. 

St. Chrodegang, Bishop, a. d, 766. B. 
Colette. St. Fridolin, a. d. 538. St. 
Baldrede. Sts. Kyneburge, Kynenoid, 
and Tibba. St. Cadroe, x. d. *975. 



St. Bcldrede, 
Bishop of Glasgow, died in London 
L. D. 608, and his relics were famous in 
many churches in vScotland. Bollandus 
says, " he was wonderfully buried in three 
pla<;es; seeing that three towns Aldham, 

Tinningham, and Preston, contended for 
his body." In those days when there 
were no parish registers, these miracul- 
ous powers of self-multiplication after 
death, must have been sadly perplexingto 
topographers and antiquaries. 


Tlie " New-come" of the year is born to-day, 

With a strong lusty laugh, and joyous shout. 
Uprising, with its mother, it, in play, 

Throws flowers on her ; pulls hard buds about. 
To open them for blossom ; and its voice. 

Peeling o'er dells, plains, uplands, and high groves, 
Startles all living things, till they rejoice 

In re-creation of themselves ; each loves, 
And blesses each ; and man's intelligence. 
In musings grateful, thanks All Wise Beneficence. 

Sprikg commences on the 6th of 
March, and lasts ninety-three days. 

According to Mr. Howard, whose prac- 
tical information concerning the seasons 
is highly valuable, the medium tempera- 
ture during spring is elevated, in round 
numbers, from 40 to 58 degrees. " The 
mean of the season is 48.94*' — the sun 
effecting by his approach an advance of 
11.18" upon the mean temperature of the 
winter. This increase is retarded in the 
forepart of the spring by the winds from 

north to east, then prevalent ; and which 
form two-thirds of the complement of the 
season ; but proportionately accelerated 
afterwards by the southerly winds, with 
which it terminates. A strong evapora- 
tion, in the first instance followed by 
showers, often with thunder and hail in 
the latter, characterises this period. The 
temperature commonly rises, not by a 
steady increase from day to day, but by 
sudden starts, from the breaking in of sun- 
shine upon previous cold, cloudy weather. 



At such times, the vapour appears to be 
now and then thrown up, in too great 
plenty, into the cold region above ; where 
being suddenly decomposed, the tempera- 
ture falls back for awhile, amidst wind, 
showers, and hail, attended, in some in- 
stances, with frost at night." 

Our ancestors varied their clothing ac- 
cording to the season. Strutt has given 
the spring dress of a man in the four- 
teenth century, Irom an illumination in a 
manuscript of that age: this is a copy 
of it. 

In " Si/lvan Sketches," a new and 
charming volume by the lady who wrote 
the " Flora Domestica," it is delight- 
fully observed, that, " the young and 
'oyous STjirit of spring sheds its swee! 
influence upon every thing : the streams 
sparkle and ripple in the noon-day sun, 
and the birds carol tipseyly their merriest 
ditties. It is surely the loveliest season 
of the year." One of our living min 
strels sings of a spring day, that it 

Looks beautiful, as when an infant wakes 
From its soft slumbers ; 

and the same bard poetically reminds us 
with more than poetical truth, that at this 
season, when we 

See life and bliss around us flowing. 

Wherever space or being is. 
The cup of joy is full and flowing. 


Another, whose numbers are choralled 
by worshipping crowds, observes with 
equal truth, and under the influence of 
high feelings, for seasonable abundance, 

To enjoy is to obey. 


Grateful and salutary spring the plants 

Which crown our numerous gardens, and 

Invite to health and temperance, in the simple meal, 

Unpoisoned with rich sauces, to provoke 

Th' unwilling appetite to gluttony. 

For this, the bulbous esculents their roots 

With sweetness fill ; for this, with cooling juice 

The green herb spreads its leaves ; and opening buds. 

And flowers and seeds, with various flavours. 


Sweet is thy coming, Spring ! — and as I pass 

Thy hedge-rows, where from the half-naked spray 

Peeps the sweet bud, and 'midst the dewy grass 

The tufted primrose opens to the day : 

My spirits light and pure confess thy pow'r 

Of balmiest influence: there is not a tree 

That whispers to the warm noon-breeze ; nor flow'r 

Whose bell the dew-drop holds, but yields to me 

Predestinings of joy : O, heavenly sweet 

Illusion ! — that the sadly pensive breast 

Can for a moment from itself retreat 

To outward pleasantness, and be at rest : 

While sun, and fields, and air, the sense have wrought 

Of pleasure and content, in spite of thought ! 


In spring the ancient Romans cele- 
Drated the Ludi Florales. These were 
annual games in honour to Flora, accom- 
panied by supplications for beneficent 
mfluences on the grass, trees, flowers, and 
other products of the earth, during the 
jear. The Greeks likewise invoked 

fertility on the coming of spring witb 
many ceremonies. The remains of the 
Roman festivals, in countries which the 
Roman arms subdued, have been frequent- 
ly noticed already ; and it is not purposed 
to advert to them further, than by observ- 
ing that there is considerable difficulty in 



so apportioning every usage in a modern 
ceremony, as to assign each to its proper 
origin. Some may have been common to 
a people before they were conquered; 
others may have been the growth of later 
times. Spring, as the commencement of 
the natural year, must have been hailed 
by all nations with satisfaction; and was, 
undoubtedly, commemorated, in most, by 
public rejoicing and popular sports. 
Dr. Samuel Parr died on tlie 6th of 
March, 1825. 


The Germans retain many of the an- 
nual customs peculiar to themselves before 
the Roman conquest. Whether a cere- 
mony described in the " Athenseum," as 
having been observed in Germany of late 
years, is derived from the victors, or from 
the ancient nations, is not worth discussing 

The approach of spring was there com- 
memorated with an abundance of dis- 
play. Its allegorical character was its most 
remarkable feature. It was called Der 
Sommera-gewhin, the acquisition of 
summer ; and about thirty years ago was 
celebrated at the begining of spring by 
the inhabitants of Eisenach, in Saxony, 
who, for that purpose, divided themselves 
into two parties. One party carried 
winter under the shape of a man covered 
with straw, out of the town, and then, as 
It were, sent him into public exile ; whilst 
the other party, at a distance from the 
town, decked spring, or, as it was vulgarly 
called, summer, in the form of youth, with 
boughs of cypress and May, and marched 
in solemn array to meet their comrades, 
the jocund executioners of winter. In 
the meanwhile national ballads, celebrat- 
ing the delights of spring and summer, 
filled the skies ; processions paraded the 
meadows and fields, loudly imploring the 
blessings of a prolific summer ; and the 
jovial merry-makers then brought the 
victor-god home in triumph. In the 
course of time, however, this ceremonial 
underwent various alterations. The parts, 
before personified, were now performed 
by real dramatis personae ; one arrayed 
cs spring, and another as winter, enter- 
tained the spectators with a combat, 
wherein winter was ultimately vanquish- 
ed and stripped of his emblematical 
attire ; spring, on the contrary, being 
hailed as victor, was led in triumph, 
amidst the loud acclamations of the mul- 
titude, into the town. From this festival 
originated a popular ballad, composed of 
stanzas each of which c<«uclude thus : 

Heigho ! heigho ! heigho ! Summer is at hand ; 

Winter has lost the game, 

Summer maintain'd its fame ; 
Heigho ' heigho ! heigho I Summer is at hand 

The day whereon the jubilee takes 
place is denominated der Todten sonntag, 
the dead Sunday. The reason may be 
traced perhaps to the analogy which win- 
ter bears to the sleep of death, when the 
vital powers of nature are suspended 
The conjecture is strengthened by this 
distich in the ballad before quoted: 

Now we've vanquish'd Death, 
And Summer's return ensured : 
Were Death still unsubdued. 
How much had we endured ! 

But of late years the spirit of this festival 
has disappeared. Lately, winter was un- 
couthly shaped ofwood, and being covered 
with straw, was nailed against a large 
wheel, and the straw being set on fire, the 
apparatus was rolled down a steep hill ! 
Agreeably to the intention of its inven- 
tors, the blazing wheel was by degrees 
knocked to pieces, against the precipices 
below, and then — winter's effigy, to the 
admiration of the multitude, split into a 
thousand fiery fragments. This custom 
too, merely from the danger attending it, 
quickly fell into disuse ; but still a shadow 
of the original festivity, which it was 
meant to commemorate, is preserved 
amongst the people of Eisenach. " Al- 
though" says the writer of these particu- 
lars, " we find winter no longer sent into 
banishment, as in former times, yet an 
attempt is made to represent and conci- 
liate spring by oflTerings of nosegays and 
sprays of evergreen, adorned with birds 
or eggs, emblematical of the season." 
Probably the latter usages may not 
have been consequent upon the decline 
of the former, but were coeval in their 
origin, and are the only remains of an- 
cient customs peculiar to the season. 


Lent Lily. Narcissus Pseudonarcissua 
Dedicated to St. Colette 

St. Thomas Jquiiias, a. s. 1274. Sts 
Perpetua and Felicitas, a. d. 203. Si 
Paul, Anchoret. 

St. Perpetua. 

This saint is in the church of Englana 
calendar. She was martyred under the 
emperor Severus in 205. 



St. Paul tlie Anchoret. 
This saint was " a man of profound 
Ignorance." Butler says he was named 
" the simple." He journeyed eight days 
into the desert on a visit, and to become a 
disciple of St. Antony, who told him he 
•was too old, and bade him return home, 
mind his business, and say his prayers ; 
he shut the door upon him. Paul fasted 
and prayed before the door till Antony 
opened it, and out of compassion made 
a monk of him. One day after he had 
diligently worked at making mats and 
hurdles, and prayed without intermission, 
St. Antony bid him undo his work and 
do it all over agam, which he did, without 
asking for a morsel of bread though he 
had been seven days without eating ; 
this was to try Paul's obedience. Ano- 
ther day when some monks came to 
Antony for advice, he bid Paul spill a 
vessel of honey and gather it up without 
any dust: this was another trial of his 
obedience. At other times he ordered 
hira to draw water a whole day an.i pour 
it out again ; to make baskets and pull 
them to pieces ; to sew and unsew gar- 
ments and the like : these were other 
trials of his obedience. When Antony 
had thus exercised him he placed him in 
a cell three miles from his own, proposed 
him as a model of obedience to his disci- 
ples, sent sick persons to him, and others 
possessed with the devil, whom he could 
not cure himself, and "under Paul," Butler 
says, " they never failed of a cure." He 
died about 330. 


Early Daffodil. Narcissus Pseudonarcis- 

sus simples. 

Dedicated to St. Perpetua. 

i¥lard) 8. 

St. John of God, a. n. 1550. St. Felia^, 
A.D. 646. Sts. Apollonins, Philemoii, 
&c. A.D. 311. St. Julian, Abp. of 
Toledo, A.D. 690. St. Dutkak, Bp. of 
Ross, A.D. 1253. St. Rosa, of Viterbo, 
A.D. 1261. St. Senan, 5th Cent. St. 
Psalmod, or Saumay, about 589. 

Romish saints are like earthquakes, 
wherein shocks crowd so fast they cannot 
be noted. 

An Earthquake in London. 

On the 8th of March, 1750, an earth- 
quake shook all London. The shock was 
at half past five in the morning It 

awoke people from their sleep and 
frightened them out of their houses. 
A servant maid in Charterhouse-square, 
was thrown from her bed, and had her 
arm broken ; bells in several steeples 
were struck by the chime hammers ; grea' 
stones were thrown from the new spire of 
Westminster Abbey ; dogs howled in un 
common tones ; and fish jumped haH 
a yard above the water. 

London had experienced a shock only 
a month before, namely, on the 8th 
of February 1750, between 12 and 1 
o'clock in the day. At Westminster, the 
barristers were so alarmed that they 
imagined the hall was falling. 


Everblowing Rose. Rosa Semperflorens 
Dedicated to St. Rosa of Viterbo- 
Great Jonquil. Narcissus Icetus. 
Dedicated to St. Felix. 

i¥lard) 9. 

St. Frances, Widow, a. d. 1440. St. Gre- 
gory, of Nyssa, Bp. 4th Cent. St. 
Pucian, Bp. a. d. 373. St. Catherine, of 
Bologna, a. d. 1463. 


Scots' mists, like Scots' men, are pro- 
verbial for their penetration; Plymouth 
showers for their persevering frequency. 
The father of Mr. Haydon, the artist, 
relates that in the latter portion 
of 1807, and the first three or four 
months of 1808, there had been more 
than 160 successive days in which rain, 
in more or less quantities, had fallen 
in that neighbourhood. He adds, in- 
deed, by way of consolation, that in 
winter it only rained there, while it 
snowed elsewhere. It has been remarked 
that in this opinion he might be correct ; 
at least if he compared the climate of 
Plymouth with that of the western high- 
lands. A party of English tourists are 
said to have stopped for several days at 
an uncomfortable inn, near Inverary, by 
the unremitting rams that fall in that 
country about Lammas, when one oi 
them pettishly asked the waiter, " Does 
it rain here always ?'' " Na ! na I" re- 
plied Donald, " it snaivs whiles," i. e. 

floral DIRECTORY. 

Petticoat Dafibdil. Narcissus Bulboco- 


Dedicated to St. Catherine. 



M^vtf) 10. 

Forty Martyrs of St. Sehastl, 
St. Droctovceus, Abbot, a. d. 

V. D. 320. 
580. St. 

The 10th of March, 1702, is erroneously 

said to have been the day whereon died 
sir Hugh Myddleton; a man renowned ill 
English annals for having abundantly 
supplied London with water, by conduct 
ing the New River from Ware, in Hert- 
fordshire, to the Clerkenwell suburb ol 
the metropolis. 

dramatic, entertainment. After manifold 
windings and tunnellings from its source, 
the New River passes beneath the arch in 
the engraving, and forms a basin within 
a large walled enclosure, from whence 
diverging main pipes convey the water to 
all parts of London. At the back of the 


This is seen immediately on coming boy angling on the wall, is a public-house 
within view of Sadler's Wells, a place of with tea-gardens and a skittle-ground, 

' ' " commonly called, or known by the name 
or sign of, the sir Hugh Myddleton, or of 
the sir Hugh Myddleton's head," a por- 
trait of sir Hugh hangs in front of the 
house. To this stream, as the water 
nearest London favourable to sport, an 
glers of inferior note repair : — 
Here " gentle anglers," and their rods withal. 

Essaying, do the finny tribe inthrall. 

Here boys their penny lines and bloodworms throw. 

And scare, and catch, the " silly fish" below : 

Backstickles bite, and biting, up they come. 

And now a minnow, now a miller's thumb. 
Here too, experienced youths of better taste 

And higher aim resort, who bait with paste, 

Or push beneath a gentle's shining skiu 

The barbed hook, and bury it within ; 

The more he writhes the better, if he die 

Not one will touch him of the finny fry ; 

If in strong agony the sufferer live. 

Then doth the "gentle angler" joy receive, 

Down bobs the float, the angler wins the prise, 

And uow the gentle, now the gudgeon dies. 



Concerning Sir Hugh Myddleton there 
Villi be occasion to speak again. 


In the Church. 

In the notice of Bernard Gilpin, March 
4, (p. 165,) it is said, " another incident 
iiirther illustrating the manners of the 
Northern Borderers will be mentioned 
below." The observation refers to a ftin- 
giilar challenge, which the arrangements 
of that day could not include, and is now 

On a certain Sunday Mr. Gilpin going 
to preach in those parts wherein deadly 
y^^Krf* prevailed, observed a glove hanging 
up on high in the church. He demanded 
of the sexton what it meant, and why it 
hung there. The sexton answered, that it 
was a glove which one of the parish hung 
up there as a challenge to his enemy, sig- 
nifying thereby, that he was ready to enter 
combat hand to hand, with him or any one 
else who should dare to take the glove 
down. Mr. Gilpin requested the sexton to 
take it down. " Not I, sir," replied the 
sexton, "I dare do no such thing." Then 
Mr. Gilpin, calling for a long staff, took 
down the glove himself, and put it in his 
bosom. By and by, when the people 
came to cliurch, and Mr. Gilpin in due 
time went up into the pulpit, he in his 
sermon reproved the barbarous custom 
of challenges, and especially the custom 
which they had, of making challenges by 
the hanging up of a glove. " I hear," 
said he, " that there is one amongst you, 
who, even in this sacred place, hath hanged 
up a glove to this purpose, and threateneth 
to enter into combat with whosoever shall 
take it down. Behold, I have taken it 
down myself." Then plucking out the 
glove, he showed it openly, and inveighing 
against such practices m any man that 
professed himself a Christian,endeavoured 
\ o persuade them to the practice of mutual 
love and charity. 


The memory of man supplies no re- 
collection of so wet a season as from Sep- 
tember 1824 to March 1825 ; it produced 
the rot in sheep to an alarming extent. 
In consequence of the animals being 
killed in this disease, the mutton is un- 
wholesome for human food, and produces 
mortality even in dogs. The newspapers 

relate that such mutton given to a 
kennel of dogs rendered ibem fat, till on a 
sudden their good looks declined, they 
became lean, and gradually died, withoiit 
any other cause being assignable for the 
mortality, than the impure flesh of the 
sheep. In such a season, therefore, fami- 
lies should shrink from the use of mutton 
as from a pestilence. There is no secu- 
rity, but in entire abstinence. Almost 
every hare shot during the same period 
had a tainted liver. Under such circum- 
stances lamb should be sparingly used, 
and, if possible, refrained from altogether, 
in order to secure mutton at a reasonable 
price hereafter. 


1792. John, earl of Bute, died. He 
was prime minister soon after the acce.'*- 
sion of George III.; and of all who guideil 
the helm of state, the most unpopular. 

On the 10th of March, 1820, died 
Benjamin West, esq., president of the 
Royal Academy, in the eighty-second yeai 
of his age. It was his delight to gentlj 
lead genius in a young artist ; and Mr. 
William Behnes, the sculptor, was 
honoured by the venerable president with 
the means of transmitting his parting 
looks to an admiring world, upon whom 
he was soon to look no more. Mr. West's 
sittings to Mr. Behnes were about two 
months before his death. Expressing 
himself to his young friend in terms o< 
high satisfaction at the model, he en- 
couraged him to persevere in that 
branch of art which Mr. Behnes has since 
distinguished, by admirable power of de- 
sign and use of the chisel. To speak of 
Mr. Behnes's model as a mere likeness, is 
meagre praise of an effort which clearly 
marks observation, and comprehension, of 
Mr. West's great mental powers. The 
bust, as it stands in marble, in sir John 
Leicester's gallery, is a perfect resemblance, 
of Mr. West's features, and an eloquent 
memorial of his vigorous and unimpaired 
intellect in the last days of earthly exis- 
tence. If ever the noblest traits of humanity 
were depicted by the hand of art, they 
are on this bust. Superiority of mind is 
so decidedly- marked, and blended, with 
primitive simplicity, and a beaming look 
of humanity and benevo'.ence, that it 
seems the head of an apostle. 

^Ir. West was an American ; tie was 



boin at Springfield, in Pennsylvania, 
on the 10th of October, 1738; his 
ancestors and parents were " Friends :" 
the family had emigrated from England 
with the illustrious founder and legislator 
of Pennsylvania, Wh.liam Penn: of 
whose treaty with the Indians for a tract 
of their territory, it is observed, that it 
was the only christian contract unsanc- 
tioned by an oath, and the only one never 
violated.* The first of the family who 
embraced Quaker principles was colonel 
James West, the friend and companion in 
arms of the great John Hampden. 

Mr. West's genius developed itself very 
early. When a child he saw an infant 
smile in its sleep, and forcibly struck with 
Its beauty, seized pens, ink, and paper, 
which happened to lie by him, and en- 
deavoured to delineate a portrait ; at tiiis 
period he had never seen an engraving or 
a picture. He was afterwards sent to 
school in the neighbourhood, and during 
hours of leisure was permitted to draw 
with a pen and ink. It did not occur to 
any of the family to provide him with bet- 
ter materials, till a party of Indians being 
amused with little Benjamin's sketches of 
birds and flowers,taught him to prepare the 
red and yellow colours with which they 
painted their ornaments, and his mother 
adding blue, by giving him a piece of 
indigo, he became possessed of the three 
primary colours. As he could not procure 
camels' hair pencils, and did not even 
know of their existence, he supplied the 
deficiency by cutting fur from the end of 
the cat's tail. From the frequent necessity 
for repeating this depredation, his father 
observed the altered appearance of his 
favourite, and lamented it as the effect of 
disease; the young artist, with due con- 
trition, informed his father of the true 
cause, and the old gentleman was higlily 
pleased by his son's ingenuousness. Mr. 
Pennington, a merchant of Philadelphia, 
struck with the genius of the child, sent 
him a box of paints and pencils, with 
some canvass, and six engravings by 
Grevling. Little West rose with the 
dawn of the next day, carried the box 
into the garret, prepared a pallet, began 
to imitate the figures in the engravings, 
omitted to go to school, and joined the 
family at dinner, without mentioning how 
he had been occupied. In the afternoon 
he again retired to his garret ; and for 

* Voltaire's Pliilosopliical Dictionary London 
edit. vol. V p. 367. 

several successive days thus devoted hin> 
self to painting. The schoolmaster, how- 
ever, sent, to know the reason of his ab 
sence. Mrs. West recollecting that she 
had seen Benjamin going up stairs every 
morning, and suspecting that it was the 
box which occasioned this neglect of the 
school, affected not to notice the message, 
but went immediately to the garret, and 
found him employed on the picture. If 
she had anger, it was changed to a different 
feeling by the sight of his performance ; 
she kissed him with transports of affection, 
and assured him that she would intercede 
to prevent his being punished. It seemed 
ever the highest pleasure of Mr. West 
emphatically to declare, that it was this 
kiss that made him a painter. 

After numerous indications of uncon- 
trollable passion for his favourite and 
only pursuit, a consultation of •' Friends" 
was held, on the propriety of allowing 
young West to indulge a taste, which the 
strict discipline of the society inhibits : — 

Genius has such resistless power 
That e'en the Quaker, stern and plain, 
Felt for the blooming painter boy. 

The destiny he desired was fixed. In 
1760 he left Philadelphia for Rome, pur- 
sued his studies in the capital of art, 
visited the galleries and collections of 
Italy with an ardour that impaired his 
health, came through France to London, 
and was about to return to America, when 
sir Joshua Reynolds, and Wilson, the 
landscape painter, used their utmost per- 
suasions to detain him in this country. 
There was only one obstacle ; he had 
formed an attachment on his native soil : 

Wlieree'er he turn'd, whatever realms to 

His heart, untravcll'd, fondly turn'd 

to her whom he loved. This difficulty 
was overcome, for the lady. Miss Shewcll, 
came over ; they were married in London, 
in 1764. Thus " settled," in the following 
year Mr. West was chosen a member and 
one of the directors of the Society of 
Artists, afterwards incorporated with the 
Royal Academy, which he assisted in 
forming, and over which he afterwards 
presided till his death. 

As an artist his works in the various 
collections and edifices throughout Eng- 
land exhibit his talents, but above all 
" West's Gallery," now open in New- 
man-street for public inspection, is an 
assemblage of testimonials to the I'ustice 



of his fame among his adopted country- 
men. His talent geiminated on the 
shores of the Atlantic, but with us it 
flourished. Ameiica at that period was 
not sufficiently advanced to cultivate his 
genius : now that she has risen in com- 
merce and the arts, and taken her stand 
among the nations, she will retain her 
future Wests to adorn her greatness. May 
the people of England and America con- 
tend with each other no more but in works 
of peace and good will ; and may the in- 
terchange of talented individuals from 
each, contribute to the prosperity and 
moral grandeur of both countries ! 

As a man, Mr. West's characteristics 
were kindness and warmth of heart. 
From accordant feelings, he painted with 
delight and energy some of the most 
affecting incidents m the New Testament 
history. His " Christ healing the sick" 
will be remembered by all who saw it, 
with reverend solemnity. In his " Christ 
Rejected-," the various bad passions in the 
malignant spectators and abettors of the 
outrage ; the patient suffering of the great 
and all-enduring character ; the sympa- 
thizing feelings of his adherents ; and the 
general accessories, are great lineaments of 
the designer's power. His " Death on the 
Pale Horse," and more especially the 
sketch for that painting, express masterly 
thought and conception. These are Mr. 
West's "large'' pictures. Some of his 
smaller ones and his sketches, the beholder 
studies and lingers over till his limbs and 
body tire ; and he leaves the large assem- 
blage of paintings in " West's Gallery" 
with a conviction, that no artist has yet 
fully occupied his place. Perhaps there 
is only one who would have designed the 
" Death on the Pale Horse" more effec- 
tively, and he would have had no compeer 
•^Mr. Fuseli ; whose compositions are of 
a higher order than those of any other in 
this country, and will be duly estimated 
when the price set upon his works cannot 
be useful to their author. No one is 
valued till he is dead ; after the last sigh 
has sobbed from the body, comes the time 
for some to suspect that they had inflicted 
pangs upon its infirmity when living, and 
a desire to know more of a man, the 
rufflings of whose dying pillow the breath 
of their friendship might have smoothed, 
and whom, to the extent of their compre- 
hension they might have known, if their 
little feelings, in a state too easy, had not 
excluded him from their society. 


Upright Chickweed. Veronica triphijllos 
Dedicated to St. DroctavcEus, 

iHarrI) 11. 

St. Eulogius of Cordova, a. d. 859. Si. 
Sophronius, Patriarch of Jerusalem, 
A. D. 640. St. JEngiis, Bishop, *.. d 
824. St. Constantine, 6th Cent. 


1752. Papers were affixed in the 
avenues to both houses of parliament, 
giving notice that the farmers and their 
servants intended to destroy the pheasant 
and partridge eggs, and leverets, if the 
country gentlemen, who had entered into 
an association for the preservation of 
game, did not desist. There were sad 
heats at this time between the owners and 
occupiers of land, from the obnoxiousness 
of the game laws, and the severity of their 


Cornish Heath. Erica vaguus 
Dedicated to St. Eulogius. 

i^larri) 12. 

St. Gregory the Great. St. Maximilian, 
A. D. 296. St. Paul, Bishop of Leon, 
about 573. 

St. Gregory the Great. 

He was praetor of Rome in 574, under 
the emperor Justin ; next year he became a 
monk, and by fasting and study so weak- 
ened his stomach, that he swooned if he 
did not frequently eat. "What gave him the 
greatest affliction," says Butler, "was, his 
not being able to fast on an Easter-eve ; a 
day on which, says St. John the deacon, 
* every one, not even excepting little chil- 
dren are used to fast ;' whereupon, by pray- 
ing that he might be enabled to fast, he 
not only fasted, but quite forgot his ill- 
ness." He determined to come to Britain 
to propagate the faith ; but the whole city 
rose in an uproar to prevent his depar- 
ture, and the pope constrained him to re- 
main. Pope Pelagius II. sent him as 
nuncio to Constantinople, where Eutychius 
fell into an error, importing that after tlie 
resurrection glorified bodies would not be 
palpable, but of a more subtile texture than 
air. Whereupon, says Butler, St. Gre- 
gory was alarmed, and clearly derrcn- 
etrated that their bodies would be the 



same which they had on earth, and Euty- 
chius retracted his error : on his return to 
Rome he took with him an arm of St. 
Andrew, and the head of St. Luke. Pela- 
gius made him his secretary, and after his 
death was elected pope liimself. To 
escape from the danger of this elevation, 
he got himself carried out of Rome in a 
wicker basket, and lay concealed in woods 
and caverns for three days. He was 
afterwards consecrated with great pomp, 
and on that occasion sent a synodal epistle 
to the other patriarchs, wherein he de- 
clared that " he received the four councils 
as the four gospels." Butler says, he ex- 
tended his charity to the heretics, and 
'•to the very Jews," yet he afterwards adds, 
that in Africa " he extirpated the Dona- 
ists." He subscribed himself in his let- 
ters, "Servant of the Servants of God." 
He sent to the empress Constantina a 
veil which had touched the relics of the 
apostles, and assured her that miracles 
nad been wrought by such relics, and 
promised her some dust-filings of the 
chains of St. Paul. He sent St. Austin 
and other monks to convert the English. 
(See February 24, St Ethelbert.) He 
died on the 25th of January, 604.* His 
devotion to the church was constant ; he 
was learned, enterprising, sincere, and 
credulous, and, for the times wherein he 
rved, charitable, and merciful. It should 
be observed, that he was the author of 
the church-singing called the Gregorian 

Many miracles are related of St. Gre- 
gory, as that going to bless a church 
in honour of St. Agnes, which had 
been used by the Arians, he caused the 
relics to be placed on the altar, whereon 
a hog went grunting out of the church with 
a fearful noise ; whence it was averred 
that the devil, who had been served in 
it by the heretic Arians, was driven out 
by the relics. Sometimes the 'amps were 
miraculously lighted. One day a bright 
cloud descended on the altar, with a 
heavenly odour, so that from reverence 
Qo one dared to enter the church. At 
another time, when Gregory was transub- 
stantiating the wafers a woman laughed ; 
he asked her why she laughed ? to which 
at length she answered, " because you 
call the bread which I made with my own 
hands the body of our Lord ;" whereupon 
he prayed, and the consecrated bread 
appeared tlesh to every one present ; and 

• Buttler's Saintsi 

the woman was converted, and the rest 
were confirmed. At another time, sorhe 
ambassadors coming to Rome for relics, 
Gregory took a linen cloth which had 
been applied to the body of a saint, and 
enclosing it in a box gave it to therr. 
While on their journey home they were 
curious to see the contents of the box ; 
and finding nothing within it but thft 
cloth, returned to St. Gregory complain- 
ing that he had deceived them. On this 
he took the cloth, laid it on the altar, 
prayed, pricked it with a knife, the cloth 
shed blood, and the astonished ambassa- 
dors reverently took back the box. Another 
time one who had been excommunicated 
by St. Gregory for having put away his 
lawful wife, bargained with certain sor- 
cerers and witches for revenge ; who, when 
the holy pope rode through the city, sent 
the devil into his horse, and made him 
caper, so that he could not be held; then 
with the sign of the cross the pope casi 
out the devil, and the witches by miracle 
becoming blind were converted, and Si. 
Gregory baptized them ; yet he would not 
restore their sight, lest they should read 
their magical books again, but main- 
tained them out of the church rents. 
After his death there was a famine in 
Rome, and the people being falsely per- 
suaded that St. Gregory had wasted the 
church property, gathered his writings 
to burn them ; wherefore Peter, the dea- 
con, who had been intimate with Gre- 
gory, affirmed, that "he had often seen 
the Holy Ghost in form of a dove upon 
St. Gregory's head whilst he was writing, 
and that it would be an insufferable 
affront to burn those books, which had 
been written by his inspiration ;" and to 
assure them of this he offered to confirm 
it by oath, but stipulated that if he died 
immediately after he had taken the oath, 
they should believe that he had told 
them the truth : this being assented to, he 
took the oath, and thereupon died, and 
the people believed ; and " hence the 
painters came to represent St. Gregory, 
with a dove at his ear, to signify that the 
Holy Ghost inspired and dictated what 
he writ."* 

It is also a legend concerning St. Gre- 
gory, that when he fled from Rome to 
avoid the dignity of popedom and lay hid, 
a bright pillar of fire descending from hea- 
ven, glittered above his head, and angels 
appeared descending and ascending by 

• Ribadeneira'* Seinrs. 



ihe same fiery pillar upon him, where- 
fore he was " miraculously betrayed."* 

After St. Gregory's death there was a 
hermit, who had left all his goods, and 
left the world, and kept nothing but his 
cat, and this cat he used to play with, 
and hold in his lap tenderly : one day he 
prayed that it might be revealed to him, 
to the joy of what saint he should here 
after come ; then St. Gregory was revealed 
to him, and that he should come to his 
joy ; wherefore the hermit sighed, and dis- 
liked his poverty, because St. Gregory had 
possessed so much earthly riches xand in 
revelation it was commanded him to be 
quiet, because he had more pleasure in 
stroking and playing with his cat, than 
St. Gregory had in all his riches. Then 
the hermit prayed that he might have 
the like merit and reward with St. Gre- 
gory ; and in this story, lieth great moral. 


Although this is not a family receipt- 
book, yet a prescription is extracted from 
the "Yea and Nay Almanack for 1678," 
because the remedy has been tried and 

For the Eyes. 

In the morning as soon as you rise, 
instead of fasting spittle, or a cat's tail, 
rub your eyes with a hundred broad 
pieces of your own gold; and I tell thee 
friend, it will not only do thy eyes good, 
but thy purse also. 

1689. King James II. landed at 
Kinsale in Ireland, with an army he 
brought from France, to assist in the 
recovery of the throne he had abdicated. 
He afterwards made a public entry into 
Dublin, and besieged Londonderry, which 
vigorously defended itself under the rev. 
George Walker, and suffered dreadful 
privations till it was relieved, and the 
siege abandoned. He then held a parlia- 
ment in Dublin, coined base money, and 
committed various outrages, till William 
III. signally defeated him at the battle of 
the Boyne, and compelled him to fly to 


Among the proposals in 1825, a year 

Srolific of projects, there is one for a 
oint Stock Company or Society for the 

* Porter's Flowers. 

Encouran^sment of Literature ; the capital 
to be £100,000. in shares of £25. to be 
increased, if advisable ; shareholders to 
be allowed to subscribe at par; each 
shareholder to be entitled to a copy of 
every work published by the society, at 
two-thirds of the publication price ; in- 
terest 5 per cent., to be paid half yearly on 
the instalments subscribed ; a deposit of 
£l. per share to be paid on subscribing, 
the remainder by instalments as the 
extension of the society's concerns may 
demand ; of the profits one-fourth to 
form a fund for the benefit of authors, at 
the discretion of the society ; two-fourths 
to be divided among the proprietors an- 
nually ; tlie remaining one-fourth to 
accumulate into a perpetual triennial 
fund, to meet unforeseen expenditure, the 
possibility of loss, &c. &c. Sec. There is 
not one word about the Encourarrement 
0^ Literature beyond the title. This ab- 
sence is the most intelligible part of the 

There was a Society for the Encou- 
ragement of Learnintr, established in 
May, 1736. The duke of Richmond 
was president, sir Hugh Smithson, (after- 
wards duke of Northumberland,) and sir 
ITiomas Robinson, bart., were vice-pre- 
sidents. The trustees were the earl of 
Hertford, earl of Abercorn, Ilarley, earl 
oi" Oxford, earl Stanhope, lord Percival, 
Dr. Mead. Dr. Birch, Paul Whitehead, 
Ward, the professor at Gresham college, 
Sale, the translator of the Koran, and 
other really eminent men; Alexander 
Gordon, the author of " Iter Septentri- 
onale," a " History of Amphitheatres," and 
other learned and antiquarian works, was 
their secretary. In the December of the 
same year Gordon wrote a letter to Dr. 
Richardson, master of Emanuel college 
Cambridge, soliciting his interference 
with Dr. Conyeis Middleton, to obtain 
for the society the publication of the life 
of Cicero. " They have already entirely 
paved the way for the reception of au- 
thors," says Gordon; " appointed book- 
sellers for their service ; settled the regula- 
tions concerning printers, and the printing 
part;" and, " in fine nothing is ivanling 
but to set out with some author of geniua 
and note." Dr. Middleton chose to 
publish his life of Cicero with a book- 
seller, notwithstanding an army of really 
great names had made all those arrange- 
ments, and courted him to their en- 
couragement. In the outset of this so- 
ciety Mr. Clarke iu a letter to Mr. Bo'vyer 

Vol. I. 




expressed his conviction, that " it must 
be at last a duwnriglit trading society," 
and said " I hope you will take care to be 
ine of their printers, for there will certainly 
De a society for encouraging printing." 
Mr. Bowyer took the hint, and printed for 
them. The security was good, because 
each member of such a society is 
answerable individually for its debts. 
At the end of three years " Dr. Birch, as 
treasurer to the society, handed over to 
Mr. Stephen le Bas, his successor in 
office, the astonishing balance of 59/. 
3s. Q^d. During that period the society 
had printed only four books ; and then, 
deeming the assistance of booksellers ne- 
cessary, they entered into a contract for 
tiiree years with A. Millar, J. Gray, and 
J. Nourse; afterwards they contracted 
with six other booksellers, whose profits 
they retrenched : then they became their 
own booksellers ; then they once more had 
recourse to three other booksellers; and 
finally, finding their finances almost ex- 
iiausted, they laid before the public a 
memorial of the Present State of Aflf'airs 
of the Society, April 17, 1748," whereby 
it appeared that they had incurred so 
considerable a debt they could proceed 
no further.* 

Less than fifty years ago another 
society existed, under the very title of 
tiie Joint Stock Society proposed in 1825. 
Mr. Tyson, in a letter of June 21, 1779, 
to his friend Mr. Cough, the antiquary, 
mentions that a bequest of £5. was " left 
at the disposal of the Society for the En- 
couragement of Litcratiire."f If the 
liteiature of the present day owes its 
existence to that society, its ofl'spring is 
most ungrateful; the foster-parent is not 
even remembered, nor is the time of its 
birth or death recorded in any public 
register. That it survived the bequest 
alluded to, only a very short period, ap- 
pears certain ; for in the verj- next year, 
1780, Dr. Lettsom issued " Hints for esta- 
blishing a Society for promoting useful 
Literature." The doctor, a most bene- 
volent man, and a good physician, dis- 
pensed much charity in private as well as 
in public, and patronized almost every 
humane institution for the rolief and cure 
of human infirmity; and hence his eye 
was as microscopic in discernment, as his 
hand was experimental in the healing of 
griefs. Literature seems to have been to 
him as a gentle river that he rilled into. 

• Nicholii'8 Anecdotes 

t Ibid. 

and which he thought could be diverted, 
or regulated by new ciiannels and shiicps ; 
he appeared not to know, that it is an 
ocean of mighty waters, with countless 
currents and varying tides. He proposed 
laigesses to indigent writers, and their 
widows and orphans, and " honoraiv re- 
wards '' to successful ones. Robertson, 
Bryant, Melmoth, Johnson, Gibbon, and 
many other "useful and accomplished 
writers," were to have had the " honorary 
rewards" of the encoui aging society. 
Such honours, such a society was to 
have forced on such men ! The doctor's 
"hints" were not adopted, except that 
to relieve the casualties of minor literary 
men, and their dependents, there now 
exists the Literary Fund. 

In the records of foimer days there is 
mention of a project for extracting, bot- 
tling, and preserving sunbeams from cu- 
cumbers, for use at that season when sun- 
beams are rare, and cucumbers not at all. 
The projector seems to have inferred, that 
as cucumbers derived their virtue from 
sunbeams, it would be virtuous in cucum- 
bers to return the deposit. Whatever 
virtue cucumbers had, it would not be 
forced. Expeiiment, doubtless, disap- 
pointed hope; the promising project ab- 
sorbed the capital advanced, as completely 
as the cholicky vegetables tenaciously 
retained the solar rays; and the deposit 
never found its way to the shareholders. 

Any Society for the Encouragement of 
Literature, suve one, is a fallacy — that one 
is society itself. All interposition in its 
behalf is feeble and doting interference. 
A public Joint Stock Company can neither 
create literary talent, nor by divided 
eflbrts obtain so much ; nor with capital, 
however great, reward it so well, as the 
undivided interest, industry, and unshared 
purse of the private publisher. 

If a Society for the Encouragement of 
Literature be instituted, when more in- 
stitution is threatened, and less insti- 
tution is necessary, than at any former 
period, such society will be a hot-bed 
for the cultivation of little more than 
hopeful weeds. A k\r literary shoots 
may be set in warm borders, and drawn 
up under frames, to look handsome, 
but they will not bear transplanting to 
open ground. Their produce will be pre- 
mature, of inferior quality, and not repay 
the trouble and expense of rearing. If 
left unsheltered, the first chill will kill 
them. Weak suckers, however well fa- 
voured, will never come to trees 



Tlie monarch of the forest, in natural 
solitude, drinking sunshine and dews, un- 
interrupted and untainted by human en- 
croachments, and striking deep root be- 
neath virgin earth, attains, in fulness of 
time, to majestic growth. In like manner 
the silent spirit of man, seeking peace in 
solitary imaginings, penetrating below the 
foundations of human knowledge, and 
generalizing and embodying the objects of 
sight and feeling, arrives to a grandeur 
astonishing to men's eyes, because not 
the work of men's hands. This self- 
created power, is denominated Genius. 
In an incipient state it evaporates beneath 
the meddling touch, and at maturity soars 
above its reach. Talent is ungovernable. 
It directs itself, appoints its own trustees 
for uses, and draws drafts upon the public 

which are honoured at siglit. The de- 
mand for talent is greater than the supply. 
What is to be done? — nothing. What 
can be done ? — nothing. Literature must 
be let alone. Under bounties and draw- 
backs, it becomes tortuous and illicit. 


Channelled Ixia. Ixia Bulbocodium. 
Dedicated to St. Gregory. 

iilard) 13. 

St. Nicephorus, Patriarch of Constanti- 
nople, A.D. 828. St. Enphrasia, a. d. 
410. St. Theophanes, Abbot, a. d. 818. 
St. Kennocha, a. d. 1007. St. Gerald, 
Bishop, A. D. 732. <S^ Mochoemoc, in 
Latin, Pulcherius, Abbot, a. d. 655 



Mothering Sunday. — Refreshment Sunday. — 
Rose Sunday. 

This is the fourth Sunday in Lent, and 
noted as a holiday in the church of Eng- 
land calendar. 

On this day boys went about, in ancient 
times, into the villages with a figure of 
death made of straw ; from whence they 
were generally driven by the country 
people, who disliked it as an ominous 



tppearance, while some gave them money 
to p,et the mawkin carried off. Its precise 
meaning under tl)at form is doubtful, 
though it seems likely to have purported 
the death of Winter, and to have been only 
a part of another ceremony conducted by 
a larger body of boys, from whom the 
death-carriers were a detachment, and 
who consisted of a large assemblage car- 
rying two figures to represent Spring and 
Winter, whereof one weis called " Sommer 
"tout" — 

Apparelde all in greene, and drest 

in youthful fine arraye ; 
The o he • Wi er, cladde in mosse, 

with heare all hoare and graye.* 
These two figures they bore about, and 
fought ; in the fight Summer, or Spring, got 
the victory over Winter, and thus was 
allegorized the departure or burial of the 
death of the year, and its commencement 
or revival as Spring. The custom described 
on March the 6th, (p. 339,) was only a 
variation of the present, wherein also the 
boys carried about cracknels or cakes : — 
Thus children also beare, with spcares, 

their cracknelles round about. t 
It is still a custom on Mid-Lent Sunday 
)n many parts of England, for servants and 
apprentices to carry cakes or some nice 
eatables or trinkets, as presents to their 
parents ; and in other parts, to visit their 
mother for a meal of furmity, or to receive 
cakes from her with her blessing. This is 
called going a mothering. % Herrick men- 
tions this custom in Gloucestershire : 
rie to thee a simnell bring 
'Gainst thou go'st a mutherin^ , 
So that when she blesseth thee 
Half that blessing thoul't give me. 
Going a mothering is from the Roman 
catholic custom of going to the mother- 
church on Mid-Lent Sunday, to make of- 
ferings at the high altar ; and that custom 
of the Romish Church is derived from the 
Hilaria, a heathen festival celebrated by 
the ancient Romans, in honour of the 
Mother of the Gods on the ides of March.§ 
The offerings at the altars were in their 
origin voluntary, and became church pro- 
perty. At length the parish priests com- 
pounded witn the church at a certain 
sum, and these voluntary donations of the 
people have become the dues known by 
the name of Easter Offerings. 

Mid-Lent, or Mothering Sunday is 
/ike wise called Refreshment Sunday, " the 

Gu"ge's Naogeorgus. t Ibid 

\ '..ejitleiuan's Magazine. 
* lotbroke'a British Mo na/^hi tni 

reason of which," says WTieatly, (on 
Ihe Common Prayer) " I suppose is the 
Go«pel for that day, which treats of our 
Saviour's miraculously feeding five thou- 
sand ; or else, perhaps, from the first 
lesson in the morning, which gives us the 
story of Joseph entertaining his brethren." 
It is also denominated Rose Sunday, from 
the pope on this day carrying a golden 
rose in his hand, which he exhibits on his 
way to and from mass.* 

On this day at Seville there is an usage 
evidently the remains of an old custom. 
Children of all ranks, poor and gentle, 
appear in the streets fantastically dress- 
ed, somewhat like English chimney- 
sweepers on May-day, with caps of gilt 
and coloured paper, and coats made of the 
crusade bulls of the preceding year. 
During the whole day they make an in- 
cessant din with drums and rattles, and 
cry " Saw down the old woman." At 
midnightjparties of the commonalty parade 
the streets, knock at every door, repeat 
the same cries, and conclude by sawing in 
two the figure of an old woman represent- 
ing Lent. This division is emblematical 


Heartsease. Viola Tricolor. 
Dedicated to St. Euphrasia. 

0[tlYX\) 14. 

St. Maud, or Mathildis, Queen, a. d. 968. 

Sts. Acepsimas, Bishop. Joseph, and 

Aithilahas, a. d. 380. St. Boniface, 

Bishop of Ross, about 630 

1733. The Excise scheme was first 
moved in the House of Commons, by 
resolutions, which were powerfully re- 
sisted, but on the 16th finally carried, and 
the Excise bill brought in. On the 4th of 
April the bill was read a first time, and 
carried by a majority of 36; the majority 
being 236, the minority 200. There were 
petitions against it from every trading 
town of the kingdom, and great tumults 
in London ; the obnoxious members were 
attacked on their way to parliament. 
The measure was so unpopular that it was 
for that time dropped, whereon public 
feeling was manifested by general illumi- 
nations, and other rejoicings. 

1757. Admiral John Byng, second 
son of lord viscount Torrington, was shot 
at Portsmouth, under the sentence of a 

• Shepherd, on Comtnoii Prayer, 
t Doblado's Letters . 



court martial, for not having done his 
duty in an action between the British and 
I'rencn fleets on the 20th of May prece- 
ding. After he had made his defence, 
and conducted himself throughout the 
trial with coolness and courage, he was so 
sure of acquittal, that he ordered his 
coach to be in waiting to convey him to 
London. He suffered on board the 
Monarque with undaunted firmness, walk- 
ing out of the cabin with unchanged 
countenance to the quarter-deck,where the 
marines were stationed to execute the 
sentence. He desired to die with his eyes 
uncovered ; but on its being represented 
that his intrepid looks might intimidate 
the soldiers, and frustrate their aim, he 
tied a handkerchief over his eyes, and 
then dropping another, five musket balls 
passed through his body, and he fell dead 
instantly. An historian of the day says 
of liim, that " Whatever his errors and in- 
discretions might have been, he seemed to 
have been rashly condemned, meanly given 
np, and cruelly sacrificed to vile con- 
siderations." It is believed that popular 
fury had been excited against him by 
various arts, and especially by the sup- 
pression of important passages in his 
official despatches. He delivered a paper 
to the marshal of the admiralty on the 
morning of his death, wherein he ex- 
pressed his conviction, that ho should 
nereafter be regarded as a victim to divert 
the indignation and resentment of an in- 
jured and deluded people from the proper 
objects, and that his very enemies be- 
lieved him innocent. 

1797. Courtney IN^elmoth died at 
Bath, aged 89 years; he translated part of 
'Cicero's Works," and" Pliny's Ji-pistles," 
and wrote " Fitzosborne's Letters," and the 
" Memoirs of a late eminent Advocate;" 
Ms father was the author of " The great 
Importance of a Religious Life." 

1803. Frederick Klopstock, a German 
writer, author of the" Messiah" and other 
works, chiefly poetical, died at Hamburgh, 
aged 80. His funeral was a public one, 
and conducted with a marked solemnity, 
denoting affectionate respect for his talents 
and character. 


Mountain Soldanel. Soldanella Alpina. 
Dedicated to St. Maud. 

iBarrJb 15. 

Forty-four years before Christ, Julius 
Csesar was assassinated by Brutus and his 
associates in the senate-house of Rome, in 
the 56th year of his age. He is said to have 
conquered three hundred nations, taken 
eight hundred cities, defeated three hun- 
dred millions of men, and slain one hun- 
dred millions on the field of battle. He 
was learned himself, and an encourager of 
learning and the aits. He wrote the "Com- 
mentaries on the wars of Gaul," a book 
which bears his name, and which would 
have been lost in the bay of Alexandria, 
if he had not swam from his ship with his 
book in one hand, and his arms in the 
other. His ruling passion was ambition, 
yet he was a slave to sensuality; with 
talents that might have made him the 
protector of Roman liberty he destroyed it. 
1784. Dr. Thomas Franklin, transla- 
tor of Sophocles, Phalaris, and Lucian, 
died. He was born about 1720, and 
wrote two tragedies, the " Earl of War- 
wick" and " Matilda." 


Coltsfoot. Tiissilago Farfala. 

Dedicated to St. Znchery. 

Lasting Mercury. Mercurialis perennis 

Dedicated to St. Abraham. 

Sti Abraham, Hermit, and his neice, St. 
Alary, 4th Cent. St. Zachary, Pope, 
A. D. 752. 

i¥larrJj 16. 

St. Julian, of Cilicia. St.Finian, sui- 
named Lobhar, or the Leper. 

St. Finian. 
He was descended from Alild, king of 
Munster, built the abbey of Innis-Fallen 
in an island on the lake of Loughlane, 
county of Kerry ; another at Ardfinnan, 
in Tipperary ; and a third at Cluin-more 
Madoc, in Leinster, where he was buried.* 
It is related of St. Finian, that he 
visited St. Ruadanus, who had a miracu- 
lous tree in his cell, dropping a liquor so 
peculiar, into a vessel from nine o'clock to 
sun-set, that it sufficed to dine him and 
all his brotherhood every day. St. 
Finian's visit was to persuade St. Ruada- 
nus to live like other people ; therefore, 
when St. Finian came to the tree, he 
signed it with the sign of the cross, by vir- 
tue of which the liquor ceased to flow 
after nine o'clock. This was in the absence 
of Ruadanus, who being informed on his 
return, that St. Finian and others had 
come to see him, he ordered his servant 

* Butler's Sainu. 



to prepare the miraculous water dinner as 
usual ; the servant surprised to find the 
vessel empty, told his master, who bade 
him to fill it with common water from a 
fountain, which he had no sooner done, 
than the water was changed into the. 
liquor that flowed from the tree. St. 
Ruadanus ordered the man to carry it to 
St. Finian, who making a cross over the 
liquor, changed it back to water, and said 
why is this liquor of a false name given to 
me? St. Finian's companions urged him 
to go and cross the fountain as he had 
crossed the tree ; but Finian answered, it 
would only grieve Ruadanus, who would 
go to the next bog, and change the water 
there into the same liquor. In the end, St. 
Finian and his companions persuaded St. 
Ruadanus not to work any more miracles, 
but to live as others did, whereunto he 
yielded. Thus St. Finian having out- 
miracled the miracle of St. Ruadanus, and 
stopped him from working the same 
miracle again, departed with his com- 


1723. March 1 6, a royal proclamation 
was issued for a thanksgiving for our pre- 
servation from the plague. 

[It has been lately proved that the 
plague is not contagious. Dr. Maclean 
is understood to have established the fact 
to the satisfaction of government, and it 
is in contemplation to repeal the present 
laws of quarantbu'.] 


Nodding Daflbdil. Narcissus nutans 
Dedicated to St Julian. 

iHarrf) 17. 

St. Patrick. St. Joseph, of Arimathea. 
St. Gertrude, Abbess, a. d. 626. 

St. Patrick, 
.Apostle of Ireland. 
St. Patrick was born towards the end 
of the fourth century, in Killpatrick, be- 
tween Dunbriton and Glasgow. At six- 
teen he was carried off with many of his 
father's vassals into slavery, and compell- 
ed for six months to keep cattle on the 
mountains in Ireland, from whence he 
escaped througn the humanity of some 
sailors. He travelled into Gaul and 
Italy, and received his apostolical mission 
to convert tne Irish, from pope Celestine, 

• Patrick's Devotions. 

who died in 432. Determined on at- 
tempting the conversion of the people, he 
penetrated to the remotest corners of Ire- 
land, baptized multitudes, ordained cler- 
gy to preside over them, instituted monks, 
gave alms to the poor of the provinces, 
made presents to the kings, educated 
children to serve at the altar, held coun- 
cils, founded monasteries, restored health 
to the sick, sight to the blind, raised dead 
persons to life, continued his missions 
during forty years, and died at Down in 
Ulster, where he was buried. Such, in 
brief, is Alban Butler's account, who as- 
signs the year 464, for a period wherein 
he lived. 

Ribadeneira affirms it, as a most famous 
miracle, and well known to the whole 
world, that St. Patrick did so free Ireland 
of all venomous beasts, that none could 
ever since breed or live there, and that 
even the very wood has a virtue against 
poison, " so that it is reported of king's 
college, Cambridge, that being built of 
Irish wood, no spider doth ever come near 

Jocelin, a Cistercian monk of Furnesin 
the twelfth century, wrote " The Life and 
Acts of St. Patrick," wherein he relates 
many extraordinary particulars, of which 
the few that follow are specimens : S'.. 
Patrick when a child in winter time 
brought home some pieces of ice, his 
nurse told him he had better have brought 
home wood, whereupon he heaped to- 
gether the ice, and prayed, and the ice 
immediately became a bonfire. After this 
his foster-father died, and to relieve his 
nurse's distress, St. Patrick prayed, signed 
him with the sign of the cross, and so 
restored him to life. Then by the same 
sign he freed a cow from an evil spirit ; 
recovered five cows she had wounded ; 
afid, by the same means, when his nurse 
was ill and longed for honey, he " imme- 
diately changed water into the best 
honey." At another time, when she was 
commanded to clean out some filthy 
stables, St. Patrick prayed, and they were 
cleaned without hands. Then St. Patrick 
himself was carried into slavery, and sold 
for a kettle ; but the kettle being placed on 
the fire, the hotter the fire burned, the 
colder became the kettle ; whereupon the 
seller of St. Patrick returned the kettle, 
took St. Patrick back, and the vessel wa? 
restored to its wonted power of boiling. 
St. Patrick desiring to eat meat, obtained 
some pork, and having concealed it 
loi a convenient season, presently 



he saw a man witli eyes before and 
eyes behind, and asked liim wliy he was 
so formed ; the seer answered, " I am the 
servant of God ; with tlie eye3 in my 
forehead I see things open to view, with 
my eyes behind I see a monk hiding flesh 
meat in a vessel to satisfy his appetite pri- 
vately." Then the seer vanished. St. 
Patrick repented, prayed for pardon, 
besought for a sign that he h?d it, was 
told by an angel to put the pork into water, 
did as the angel bid him, and tiie pork 
" immediately became fishes." Having 
journeyed into Britain, he saw a leper 
whom mariners would not carry in their 
ship, whereon St. Patrick took a stone 
altar consecrated by the pope, cast it into 
the sea, caused the leper to sit on it, and 
the leper immediately set sail on the stone, 
kept company with the ship all the voy- 
age, and got into port with her at the same 
time. St. Patrick, returning to Ireland, 
in approacliing the shore, saw a multitude 
3f devils in the form of a globe surrounding 
the whole island, when he " raised his sa- 
cred right hand, made the sign of the 
cross, and, unhurt and unterrified, passed 
he over." Some fishermen in the county 
of Leinster, drawing their nets from a 
river loaded with fish, St. Patrick asked 
tliem for some ; they refused him ; he 
cursed them, and the river ; and from 
that day the river never produced fish 
Once when the chief king of Ireland or- 
dered his subjects to prevent St. Patrick 
from landing, they set a fierce dog at him, 
whereupon the dog stiffened like a stone ; 
then a gigantic man brandished his sword 
at the saint, the man stiffened likewise, 
but repented, and St. Patrick unstiffened 
him, and baptized him. An old man, 
would not believe St. Patrick's preaching. 
St Patrick asked him whether he would 
be persuaded by a miracle ; the old man 
said he would, then St. Patrick prayed, laid 
his hand on him, " and immediately the old 
man became beautiful and young, and 
flourished again, as in his early youth," 
and was so made to believe. Having con- 
verted Mochna, a virtuous swineherd, 
while they were conversing together, a 
staff from heaven fell between them, which 
St. Patrick gave to Mochna for a pastoral 
staff, consecrated him bishop of Edrum, 
" and the staff is in that church still pre- 
served, and called ihejlyini^ ^fcff-" 

St. Patrick's nephew, St. Lumanus, being 
desirous of taking a journey by sea when 
wind and tide were against him, he 
hoisted the sails, trusted in the merits of 

St. Patrick, and, " O, miracle till then 
inilieard and unknown! the ship, witliout 
any pilot, sailed against wind and stream," 
and he made a prosperous voyage. At 
another time, St. Patrick seeing a hundred 
men unable to stir a large stone, he, alone, 
raised it up, and placed it where it was 
wanted. He was accustomed to stop and 
erect a cross at the iiead-stone of every 
christian who was buried outside of a 
burial-place ; one day, coming to the 
graves of two men newly buried, and 
observing that one of the graves only 
had a cross over it, he stopped his cha- 
riot, and speaking to the dead man below, 
asked him what religion he had been, the 
dead man answered a pagan, St. Patrick 
inquired why then a cross was put over 
him, the dead pagan replied, he who is 
buried near me was a christian, and one 
of your faith coming hither placed the 
cross at my head ; the saint stepped out 
of his chariot, rectified the mistake, and 
went his way. One Foylge, an idolater, 
strangled the driver of St. Patrick's cha- 
riot, in his seat, wherefore the saint cast 
his "holy curse'' at Foylge, who pierced 
thereby, fell dead into hell ; but the devil 
entering the dead body, walked about in 
it, and seemed as if he were Foylge him- 
self, till one day St. Patrick called at the 
dead man's house, and asking the family 
where Foylge was, they answered he was 
at home, when the saint told them of 
Foylge's death, and that Satan " had 
entered into his corpse and occupied it 
as his own proper vessel," then St. Pa- 
trick gave notice to the devil to leave his 
lodging in Foylge's body, which he did im- 
mediately, and Foylge was buried. Preach- 
ing on a journey to 14,000 men, " he first 
fed them all with spiritual food," then 
commanding a cow to be killed, with two 
stags, and a couple of boars, the people 
ate abundantly, the remnants were 
gathered up ; and " thus with the flesh of 
five animals, did St. Patrick plenteously 
feed 14,000 men." Once when he was 
preaching, by way of a strong argument, 
he raised to life nineteen dead men, one 
of whom had been buried for ten years. 
After that, St. Patrick passing over a river 
one of his teeth dropped into the water, 
and his disciples could not find it till 
night, when tlie tooth in the river shone 
as a radiant star, and being so discovered 
was brought to St. Patrick, who on that 
spot built a church, and deposited his 
tooth beneath the altar. Desiring to pass 
an impassable river, and no boat being 



at hand. St. Patrick prayed, and dividing 
the river, made himself and followers a 
free passage, then " he blessed the river, 
and being so blessed, it abounded in 
fishes above all others." St. Mel being 
denounced unjustly to St. Patrick, and 
preferring to prove his innocence by a 
miracle rather than by an oath, lie 
ploughed up the earth on a certain hill, 
and took by the ploughshare many and 
large fishes out of the dry land ; there- 
upon St. Patrick absolved him, but lest 
St. Mel should continue to work miracles 
presumptuously, " he bade him that he 
should thenceforth plough on the land, 
and fish in the water." Si. Patrick had 
a goat, a thief stole it, and ate it, and 
when accused, denied it ; but the goat 
bleating in the stomach of the thief, pro- 
claimed the merit of St. Piitrick ; and, to 
increase the miracle, by the sentence of 
the saint, all the posterity of the man 
were marked with the beard of a goat. 
St. Patrick having laboured to convert a 
tyrant, who laughed him to scorn, he im- 
mediately converted the tyrant, against his 
will, into a fox ; which fox went off with a 
hard run, and could never be found. 
Another time being benighted in the 
open air, violent rain fell around St. 
Patrick and his companions, but did not 
wet them a drop. On the same night, 
the driver of his chariot could not for the 
darkness find the horses to re-yoke them, 
on which St. Patrick, drawing his right 
hand from his sleeve, and lifting up his 
fingers, they " shone even as sun-beams, 
and wonderfully illumining the whole 
country, turned darkness into light, and 
night into day — then by the aid of the 
radiant miracle, the chariot-driver found 
his steed.'' After the death of St. Patrick, 
there was no night for twelve days. 

These are some of the miracles attri- 
buted to St. Patrick by Jocelin, whose life 
of him published in " Dublin, Printed for 
the Hibernia Press Company, By .lames 
Blyth," is sold in London by Messrs. 
Keating and Brown, Catholic Printers 
and Publishers, No. 38, Duke-street, 
Grosvenor-square, in one volume 12mo, 
containing 264 pages, price 2*. 6rf. in 

To what extent Catholics believe such 
miracles, as have been just related is 
unknown to a Protestant ; but the publi- 
cation of Jocelin's works by catholic 
booksellers in a cheap form, seems to sig- 

nify that it is held in repute by Catholic* 
in a humble rank of life. To what extent 
the catholic clergy have instructed this 
class of their flocks, or rather to what ex- 
tent they design to instruct them, is also 
unknown to a Protestant ; but should the 
higher classes of catholics enjoy the civil 
rights, which the most wise and enlight- 
ened of their Protestant fellow-subjects 
deplore they do not possess, and most 
anxiously desire they should possess, it is 
not too much to hope that it will become 
the anxious wish, as it is the positive duty 
of the catholic clergy to inform the igno- 
rant of their community, .'in union be- 
tween the church of England, or any 
other protestant church, and the church 
of Rome, never can take place ; but pro- 
testant churchmen, and Protestants of all 
denominations, can and will unite with 
Catholics, if Catholics can and will unite 
with them, to enlighten the Egyptian 
darkness, which enslaves the mind worse 
than Egyptian bondage. The education 
of helpless infancy, and the fixation of 
just principles in youth, form the best se- 
curity against criminal manhood. In this, 
surely, both Protestants and Catholics will 
concur, and their earnest cooperation to 
obtain this security will be a linn pledge 
that each desires the welfare of each. The 
marked separation of churches and doc- 
trines cannot much longer separate man 
from man. In the bigotted and selfish 
interests that dam the social affections, 
there are incurable and daily widening 
breaches : the issues alternate and vary, 
but the first high tide of mutual kindness 
will burst the restrictions, and sweep them 
away for ever 

This being the anniversary of the day 
whereon St. Patrick died, it is commemo- 
rated as a high festival in the catholic 
church ; and it is celebrated to his honour 
in that country ,with every demonst ation of 
affection for his memory as the apost'.e 
and patron saint of Ireland, that a warm- 
hearted, enthusiastic, joyous people, can 
possibly express. An eye-witness repre- 
sents to the editor of the Everif-Dai/ Book 
that St. Patrick's day in Dublin is a scene 
of festivity and mirth unequalled by any 
thing observable in this country. From 
the highest to the lowest, all hearts seem 
inspired by the saint's beneficence. At 
day-break flags fly on the steeples, and 



the hells ring out incessant peals till mid- 
night. The rich bestow their benevolence 
on the poor, and the poor bestow their 
blessings on the rich, and on each other, 
and on the blessed St. Patrick. The '-green 
immortal" shamrock is in every hat. Sports 
of manly exercise exhibit the capabilities 
of the celebrated "shillelah," and before 
night many a head gives token of the 
application of its wonderful powers, by a 
muscular hand. Priestly care soothes 
querulousness ; laughter drowns ca- 
sualty ; innumerable bright-eyed, rosy- 
cheeked, jaunty lasses dance with their 
mirth-loving lads ; old women run about 
with children in the hoods of their cloaks, 
to publicly share care-drowning cups of 
sweet consolation with each other; and by 
the union of wit, humour, and frolic, this 
miraculous day is prolonged till after the 
morning dawn. 

A popular song on this festal occasion 
contains these verses : 

Saint Patrick's, the holy and tutelar man ; 
His beard down his bosom like Aaron's ran : 
Sorac from Scotland, fromWales, will declare 

that he came, 
But I care not from whence now he's risen 

to fame : — 
The pride of the world and his enemies 

I will drink to St. Patrick, to-day, in the 

morning ! 

He's a desperate big, little Erin go hrah ; 
He will paidon our follies and promise us 

By the mass, by the Pope, by St. Patrick, so 

As I live, I will give him a beautiful song ! 
No saiat is so good, Ireland's country adorn- 
Then hail to St. Patrick, to-day, in the 
morning ! 

In London St. Patrick's day is observed 
at court as a high festival, and the nobility 
crowd to pay their compliments in honour 
of Irelaind's tutelar saint. For many 
years it has been selected as an occasion 
for soliciting and obtaining aid to a great 
national object — the promotion of eduo 
Hon. It is the anniversary of the "Benevo- 
lent Society of St. Patrick," for clothing 
and educating children of Irish parer>ts 
•who need the assistance, by voluntary 
contribution. The festival is attended by 
Irishmen of different political parties and 
religious persuasions, and many of the 
highest rank. On this anniversary, in 
1825, the marquess of Londonderry was 

in the chair, with the duke of Leinsteron 
his right, and the marquess of Lansdown 
at his left hand : several of the king's 
ministers and nobility were present. The 
report stated, trhat 400 children were 
educated in the school, the funds admitted 
of only 240 being cloil ed, the rest were 
supplied with shirts, shoes, and stockings ; 
and the committee earnestly invited in- 
spection of the schools from nine till two 
every day, except on the sabbath and Mon- 
day. A donation to the charity, from his 
majesty of 100 guineas, was followed by 
others, and by hopes that absent Irish- 
men and Englishmen who could, would 
cheerfully contribute towards an institution 
which on its merits required general sup- 
port. Speeches from the chairman and 
noble guests, the chancellor of the ex- 
chequer, Mr. O'Connell, Mr, Huskis.son, 
and other distinguished characters, 
breathed sentiments of universal good 
will, and must have inspired every indi- 
vidual to kindness, and desire of extend- 
ing, and cementing, the conciliation so 
happily commenced between the people 
of both countries. 

If is related that during the dinner, the 
party at the head table were much amused 
by a bottle of genuine {illegal) poteen, neat 
as imported from the emerald isle, being 
handed to the chancellor of the exchequer, 
who, forgetting the good of the revenue in 
the memory of St. Patrick, put a portion of 
the naughty liqueur in his glass, and drank 
it with becoming devotion. 

In the forenoon of the same day, the 
festival was celebrated at the Roman 
catholic chapel in Sutton-street, Soho, 
with an unusual degree of splendour. The 
archbishop of Armagh in his mitre and 
pontifical robes, officiated as high-priest, 
assisted by the two English catholic 
bishops, Poynter and Bramston, and one 
of the Irish bishops, and several of the 
minor clergy. A selection of music, 
chiefly from Haydn's masses, was power- 
fully performed by a very numerous choir, 
accompanied by a full band ; and after ? 
sermon by Dr. Poynter, a collection was 
made, to the amount of £65., to assist the 
chapel and the schools attached to it. 
Order of St. Patrick. 

To r^bruary, 1 783, letters patent created 
1 Brotherhood Jenominated " Knights of 
the illustrious order of St. Patrick," to con- 
sist of the sovereign for the time being, as 
sovereign of the order ; and fifteen knights 
companions, the " lieutenant-general and 
general governor of Ireland, or the lord 



deputy or deputies, or lord's justices, or 
other chief governor or governors" for the 
time being, officiating as deputy grand mas- 
ters. Tlie statutes of the order of St. Patrick 
direct the badge to be of gold, surmounted 
with a wieath of shamrock or trefoil, sur- 
rounding a circle of gold, bearing the 
motto of the order in gold letters, Quis 
separabit P with the date wdcclxxxiii, 
wherein the order was founded, and en- 
circling the cross of St. Patrick gules, 
surmounted with a trefoil vert, each leaf 
charged with an imperial crown or, upon 
a field argent ; the badge, encircled witli 
rays .n form of a star of silver of eight 
points, four greater and four lesser, worn 
on the left side of the outer garment. 

The Shamrock. 

The shamrock is the trefoil. The 
Druids used it to cure diseases. The 
Irish use it as a national cognizance. It is 
said that when St. Patrick landed near 
Wicklow to convert the Irish in 433, the 
pagan inhabitants were ready to stone 
him ; he requested to be heard, and en- 
deavoured to explain God to them as the 
Trinity in Unity, but they could not 
understand him, till plucking a trefoil 
from the ground, he said, " Is it not as 
possible for the Father, Son, and Holy 
Ghost, as for these leaves, to grow upon 
a single stalk," then the Irish were im- 
mediately convinced.* 

St. Patrick. 

The Welch claim St. Patrick. Mr. 
Owen in his " Cambrian Biography " 
affirms, he was born at Aberllychwr in 
Pembrokeshire, South Wales, where there 
is a church dedicated to him. They call 
him Padrig, the son of Mawrn or Maen- 
vvyn, of the laird of Gwyr. Mr. Owen 
cites from the genealogy of the British 
saints, that, " It was the glory of the em- 
peror Theodosius, in conjunction with 
Cystonnin Llydaw, surnamed the blessed, 
to have first founded the college of lUtyd, 
which was regulated by Balerus, a man 
from Rome ; and Padrig, son of Mawrn, 
was the principal of it, before he was car- 
ried away a captive by the Irishman." 
In corroboration, Mr. Owen says, it is 
recorded in the history of Wales, *' that 
the Irish were enabled to settle them- 
selves along nearly the whole extent of 
its coast, in the beginning of the fifth 
century, and continued there until nearly 
the middle of the same era ; when they 
were expelled from the north by the 

• Brand 's Pop. Antiquitieii. 

natives, assisted by the sons of Cunedda^ 
and from the south with the aid oi 
Urien." Thus Wales contends for the 
honour of the birth-place of Patrick with 
Scotland, while Ireland has the honour oj 
the saint himself. 

A London Bull. 
The "Athenseum" affirms the following 
to be a literal transcript of a letter sent to 
a gentleman, who had recommended a 
patient to that excellent institution called 
the London Electrical Dispensary : — 

" To Mr. G 

"No. 5081. 
" Sir, 

" Having by your recommendation 
been received a patient at the London 
Electrical Dispensary, and being dis- 
charged this day dead, I beg leave to re- 
turn my humble and hearty thanks for the 

" March 7, 1810." 

Except the No., date, and the word 
dead, which are written, ^\\\hQ rest of the 
letter is printed. 


Sweet Violet. Viola odurata. 

Dedicated to St. Oertrude. 

Shamrock Trifolium repens 

Dedicated to St. Patrick. 

ilard) ]8. 

St. Alexander, Bp. of Jerusalem, a. n. 

251. St. Cyril, Abp. of Jerusalem, 

A. D. 386. St. Edivard, King, a. u. 

979. St. Anselm, Bp. of Lucca, a. d. 

1086. St. Fridian, Erigdiayi, or Frig- 

dian, Bp. of Lucca, a. d. 578. 
St. Edward. 

This is the Enghsh king who was 
stabbed in the back with a dagger, by or- 
der of his stepmother, Elfrida, while 
drinking on horseback at the gate oi 
Corfe castle, in the isle of Purbeck. He 
spurred his horse, which plunged him 
into a deep marsh, and there he died ol 
his wounds, in 979. Butler says his 
body was discovered by a pillar of light, 
and buried in Wareham church, and 
worked miracles. His name is in the 
church of England calendar. 

It is an historical fact, that the wreicli 
ed contriver of king Edward's muidei 
passed the remainder of her days in dis- 
mal horror ; and her nights brought no re- 
pose from the afflictions of her conscience. 
She obtained a kind of armour formed ol 



crucifixes, wherein she encased herself, 
performed peiumces, built monasteries, 
and died universally execrated by the in- 
dignant people. The treacliery of the 
crime occasioned a general distrust, no 
one would drink without security from 
liim, who sat beside him, that he was safe 
while the bowl was at his lips ; and hence 
is said to have originated the customary 
expression at table of " I pledge you," 
when one person invites another to drink 


1745. Sir Robert Walpole, earl of 
Orford, died, aged 71. 


Great Leopard Bane. Doroiiicinn Pur- 

Dedicated to St Cyril. 

ilflard) 19. 

St. Joseph. St. Alcmund, 819. 

St. Joseph. 
The church of Rome has canonized Jo- 
seph ',h€ spouse of the Virgin Mary, and 
honours him with offices and worship of 
various forms. 


7'20, B. c. the first eclipse of the moon 
on record happened on this day. 

1355. Pressing for seamen to man the 
navy commenced. 

1668. Sir John Denham, poet, died in 
London ; he was born in Dublin, 1615. 

1719. A surprising meteor was seen 
about eight o'clock in the evening, from 
all parts of England, Scotland, and Ire- 
land. To an observer in St. Paul's church- 
yard, it appeared a ball of fire as large as 
the moon, of a pale bluisli light, and with 
little motioi., till in a moment it assumed 
the shape of a common meteor with a 
stream of light, double the diameter of its 
firs' appearance, emitting a splendour by 
which the smallest print might have been 
read. Its duration was not above half a 
minute, and its greatest light about the 
tenth part of a minute. At Exeter its 
light exceeded that of tlie sun at noon- 
day, and there it seemed to break like a 
skyrocket, into sparks of red fire, which 
reflected that colour on the houses, and 
shortly after a report, loud as cannon, 
shook the windows, succeeded at the in- 
terval of a minute by about thirty others; 
" they sounded just as the tower guns did 
in Mincing-lane, but shook the houses 
and windows much more." Mr. Whistoo 

calculated the greatest lieight of tins ex- 
traordinary meteor to have been forty- 
three or fifty-one statute miles : it gradu- 
ally descended lower till it came to De- 
vonshire, where it was about thirty-nine 
miles high, and broke over the sea, near 
the coast of Brittany ; its altitude then 
being about thirty miles.* 


Yellow Star of Bethlehem. Ormithoga- 
lum luieam. 

Dedicated to St. Joseph. 

iWarrf) 20. 

St. Cuthbert, Bp. of Lindisfarne, a. d 

687. St. JVulJ'ran, A\)^. of Sens, a. d 


St. Cuthbert. 

Of this saint theie will be mention 


1727. Sir Isaac Newton died ; he was 
born December 25th, 1642. 

1751. Frederick, prince of Wales, fa- 
ther of king George III. died aged 44. 

1793. Died William Murray, earl of 
Mansfield. He was born on the 2d of 
Ma'ch, 1705, and during thirty years, and 
until his death, presided as lord chief 
justice of the court of King's Bench. He 
was eminent as a lawyer, and dignified as 
a judge. It is said that he altered the 
common law of England, by ingrafting 
upon it the civil law in his decisions. As 
an elegant scholar, of highly cultivated and 
vigorous intellect, he shone in the constel- 
lation of great men, which arose in the 
reign of queen Anne. In eloquence and 
beauty of diction, he outrivalled his 
predecessors, and has not been excelled 
by any successor in the high ofrice he 

1811. Napoleon, son of the late empe- 
ror of France, by the empress Mana 
Louisa, w as born, and received the title of 
king of Rome. 

On the 20th of March, the sun enters 
the constellation '/* -^ries, or the Ram, 
which is the first zodiacal sign ; and this 
day is the first day of Spring 

By an accident, the ronurks relating to 
Spring tvere inserted under March 6, 
instead of this day : and as the error is 
thus particularly noticed, in order as fiir 
as possible to rectify it, the reader will 
please to consider all that has been said 

* Wliiiton's Account of a Meteor, 8vo. 1719. 



on the siTth of March as applicable to the 
twentieth alone. The editor, while ac- 
knowledging, and craving pardon for a 
vexatious and unpurposed misrepresenta- 
tion, will endeavour to set a vi'atch upon 
himself in future, to guard against a simi- 
lar accident. 

Aries, or the ram, as a zodiacal sign, 
is said to have been derived by the 
Greeks from the golden fleece brought 
from Colchis by Jason, about 1263 years 
before Christ ; but as it is a hieroglyphic 

on Egyptian monuments, ii is of higher 
antiquity, and symbolizes that season 
when sheep yean their lambs. The peo- 
ple of Thebes slew a ram in honour of 
Jupiter Ammon, who personifies the sun 
in Aries, and is represented by ancient 
sculpture and coins with the horns of a 
ram on his head. The Hebrews at this 
season sacrifice a lamb, to commemorate 
their deliverance from Egypt. Avies, or 
the ram, was the ensign of Gad, one of 
their le.iders 



The remarks on i\\e.Vernal Equinox, im- 
mediately following, are communicated by 
a respected scientific friend to the editor. 

This is a day of great consequence in 
the year, and one that must excite many 
associations in the mind of the astrono- 
mer, and of every one who entertains a 
due reverence for our sacred records. The 
sun on this day passes the imaginary line 
in the heavens, called the equator, or equi- 
noctial ; it being the middle circle equally 
distant in every part from the north or 
the south poles. The line is passed to an 
observer on Greenwich hill, at ten minutes 
past nine in the morning ; and, conse- 
quently, when it is on the meridian, or 
Us highest point at noon, it will appear 
to every observer in the united kingdom 
at some distance from the equator. It is 
commonly said, that at this time the day 
is equal to the night all the world over ; 
but this is a vulgar error. The day is not 
equal to the night in this country ; that is, 
the sun appears for more than tv/elve hours 

above the horizon, and, consequently, a 
less time than twelve hours elapses be- 
fore it shines again to us in the morning. 
Besides, the fallacyof this common saying 
is perceived at once by any one who con- 
siders, that the inhabitant of the north 
pole, if there is any inhabitant there, has 
already seen for some days the sun above 
his horizon, and it will not set to him for 
above six months. The day then is not 
equal to the night, either in the united 
kingdom, or at the north pole. We will 
leave to the astronomer to determine at 
what part of the earth this circumstance 
really takes place; in the investiga- 
tion of the problem he may encounter 
some difficulties, of which at present he 
is probably not aware. The sun crosses 
the equinoctial line at ten minutes past 
nine; it was therefore at its rising south 
of that line, and at its setting it will be 
north of that line. The line it marks out 
in the heavens is an arc of a spiral; but 
had it risen and set in the equinoctial 
line, the arc would have been circular. 



To leave, however, the circumstances 
peculiarly relative to astronomy, let us 
consider this day in another point of 
view. The sun and the moon are the 
'egulatorsof days, and months, and years, 
«nd times, and seasons. Every nation in 
the world pays some regard to their mo- 
tions ; and in this country they are the 
subjects of legislative enactments — enact- 
ments which have been laughed at by our 
makers of almanacs ; disregarded by the 
church, though sanctioned in its rubrics ; 
and set at naught by courts of justice, 
whose openings at certain periods depend 
on prescribed appearances in the heavens. 
Of this, hereafter, sufficient proof will be 
given ; and, in thus noticing the errors 
of past times, there is a chance, that a 
statute of importance, certainly, as it has 
been thought worthy of legislation, should 
not be hereafter violated without the in- 
terposition of the legislature. 

Our ancestors began their year about 
this time, and not without reason ; for 
they had for it the sanction of a divine 
command. To the Israelites it was coni- 
manded, that this should be the beginning 
of their sacred year, on which the great 
festivals prescribed by their law should 
depend. Their civil year begins in Sep- 
tember, and they continue to observe the 
command, having an almanac founded on 
the complicated motions of the sun and 
moon, whose calculations are of a very 
subtle nature, and whose accuracy far 
exceeds that of the polished nations of 
Europe. That the year should begin 
either at the vernal or the spring equinox, 
or at the autumnal equinox, good reasons 
may be given ; but for our taking the first 
of January for the commencement of the 
year, nothing more can be said, than the 
eld theme. 

Sic volu, sit Jitbeo, stet pro rntinne voluntas. 
— Such is my will, the sun and moon may 
move as they please. 

Except for the refraction of the atmos- 
phere, the inhabitants of the equator would 
have at all times twelve hours' day and 
twelve hours' night ; the sun being north 
or south of this circle not causing any 
difference, for the equator and ecliptic 
being both great circles of the sphere, the 
two points of intersection must be in the 
same diameter. 

By the almanac it will be found, that 
there are nearly eight days more in the 
interval between the vernal and the 
autumnal equinox, than between the latter 
and the return of the vernal equinox. 

As, therefore, from the \crn;'I to tlic 
autumnal equinox, the sun is on the 
northern side of the equator, our summer 
occurring during this period, gives us an 
advantage of nearly eight days, in this 
respect, over the southern iiemisphere. 
This difference arises from the oval or ellip- 
tical form of the earth's orbit. The earth, 
therefore, being at different distances from 
the sun during the year, it is found to 
move with different velocities ; moving 
slowest when furthest from the sun, and 
quickest when nearest to that luminary. 
It happens to be at its greatest distance 
just after our Midsummer, and moving 
consequently slower during our spring 
and summer months ; our summer is 
about eight days longer than that of the 
southern hemisphere, our winter eight 
days shorter than theirs. 

Tlie annexed diagram will exhibit the 
equinoctial condition of the earth ; the 
sun's rays at their noon falling vertically 
to tiie 11 habitants of the equator. 


Care Sunday ; care away, 
Palm Sunday, and Easter day. 

Care Sunday is the fifth Sunday from 
Shrove Tuesday, consequently it is the 
next Sunday before Palm Sunday, and 
the second Sunday before Easter. Why 
it is denominated Care Sunday is very 
uncertain. It is also called Carle Sun- 
day, and in some parts Carl'ing Sunday. 
A native of Newcastle-upon-Tyne* ob- 
serves, that in I'hat town, and many other 
places in the north of England, peas after 
having been steeped a night in water, are 
fried with butter, given away, eaten at a 
kind of entertainm.ent on Carle Sunday, 
and are called Callings, " probably as we 
call the presents at fairs, fairings." To 
this he attaches a query, whether Carlera 
may not be formed from the old plura* 
termination in en, as hose?;, SfC." The 
only attempt at a derivation of the word 
Care, is, that " the Friday on which 

• Mr. Brand. 



Christ was crucified, is called in German 
both Gute Freytag and Carr Freytag ;" 
and that the word karr signified a satis- 
faction for a fine, or penalty * The in- 
lert-ncri is corroborated, by the church of 
Rome anciently using rites on this day 
poouliar to Good Friday, whence it was 
also called Passion Sunday. It is noted 
in an old calendar, that on this day " a 
dole is made of soft beans,'' which was 
also " a rite in the funeral ceremonies of 
heathen Rome/' This " dole" of soft 
beans on Care Sunday, accounts for the 
present custom of eating fried peas on 
the same day. No doubt the beans were 
a very seasonable alms to help out the 
poor man's lent stock of provision. " In 
Northumberland the day is called Carling 
Siindai/. The ycjmanry in general steep 
peas, and afterwards parch them, and eat 
them on the afternoon of that day, call- 
ing them curlings. This is said by an old 
author, to have taken its rise from the 
disciples plucking the ears of corn, and 
rubbing them in their hands."-)- Ilence 
it is clear, that the custom of eating peas 
or beans upon this day, is only a conti- 
nuation of the unrecollected " dole" of the 
Romish church. It is possible, however, 
that there may have been no connection 
between the heathen funeral rite of giving 
beans, and the church donation, if the lat- 
ter was given in mere charity ; for there 
was little else to bestow at such a time of 
the year, when dried pulse, variously 
cooked, must have been almost the only 
winter meal with the labourer, and u 
frequent one with his employer. 

The couplet at the head of this article 
Mr. Nichols says he heard in Notting- 
hamshiie. There is another, 

Tid, Mid. Misera, 

Carling, Palm, Paste Egg day. 

The first line is supposed to have been 
formed from the beginning of Psalms, &c. 
viz. Te deum-^Mi deus — Miserere mei.J 

But how is it that Care Sunday is 
also called Carl Sunday and Carling Sun- 
day ; and that the peas, or beans, of the 
day are called car lings .^ Carle, which 
now means a churl, or rude boorish fel- 
low, was anciently the term for a working 
countryman or labourer; and it is only 
altered in the spelling, without the slightest 
deviation in sense, from the old Saxon 

* Brand's Pop. Antiq. from Marshal on the Saxon 
t Gentleman's Magazine, 1786. 
t Brand's Pop. Antiquities 

word ceorl, the name for a husbandman. 
The older denomination of the day, then, 
may not have been Cure but Carl Sunday, 
from the benefactions to the carles or 
carlen. These are still the northern 
names for the day; and the dialect in 
that part of the kingdom is nearer to 
Saxon etymology. But whether the day 
were called Carle or Care Sunday it is 
now little known, and little more can be 
said about it, without the reader feeling 
inclined to .'^ay or sing, 

" Begone dull Care." 


Dog's Violet. Fiola Canina. 
Dedicated to St. fVulfrun. 

ilard) 21. 

St. Benedict, or Bennet, Abbot, a. d. 
543. St. Serapion, called the Sindo- 
nite, A. D. 388. St. Serapion, Abbot 
St. Serapion, Bishop, 4th Age. St. 
Enna, or Endeus, Abbot, 6th Cent 

St. Benedict, or Bennet, 
Founder of the order of St. Benedict. 

The accounts of distinguished persons 
of the Romish church written by its 
ecclesiastics are exceedingly curious. 
The rev. Alban Butler states of St. Bene- 
dict, that he was born in Umbria about 
480, sent to school at Rome, and after- 
wards being determined to leave the 
world, " therefore left the city privately, 
and made the best of his way to the de- 
serts." Here he remained secreted at a 
place called Sublacum, till a " certain 
pious priest," whilst preparing a dinner 
on Easter-day, heard a voice say to him, 
" you are preparing for yourself a ban- 
quet whilst my servant Benedict at Subla- 
cum is distressed with hunger." Then 
the priest found out Benedict, and invited 
him to eat, "saying it was Easter-day, on 
which it was not reasonable to fast." 
Bennet answered, he did not know it ; and 
Alban Butler says, " nor is it to be won- 
dered at that he should not understand the 
Lunar cycle, which at that time was 
known by very few." Soon after, some 
shepherds found him hear his cave, and 
" took him for a wild beast ; for he was 
clad with the skins of beasts, and they 
imagined no human creature could live 
among those rocks." From that time he 
began to be known and visited, and the 
de/il carne to him " in the shape of a little 



blackbird.'' After this. Benedict rolled 
himself in briars and nettles, till he was 
covered with blood ; and his fame spread- 
ing still more abroad, several forsook the 
world to live with him ; and he became 
an abbot, and built twelve monasteries. 
In one of these, a monk becoming sloth- 
ful, St. Benedict said, " I will go and 
torrect him myself;" and Butler says, 
" such indeed was the danger and enor- 
mity of this fault, as to reciuire the most 
speedy and effectual remedy ;" wherefore 
St. Benedict coming to the lazy monk " at 
the end of the divine office,saw a little black 
boy leading him by the sleeve out of the 
church, "and applied the "speedy and eflec- 
tuai remedy" to the monk's shouldei's,in the 
shape of a cudgel ; and so " the sinner was 
freed from the temptation" of the little 
black boy, who was the devil. Then by 
Benedict's prayers a fountain sprung up ; 
and a monk cleaving wood with a hedg- 
ing bill, and the iron falling into the 
water, by holding the wooden handle in 
the water, the iron miraculously swam up 
to it of its own accord. Such growing 
fame brought to Benedict " many who 
came clad in purple with gold and pre- 
cious stones." " He seemed," says Alban 
Butler, " indued with an extraordinary 
power,commanding all nature, and foresee- 
ing future events ; he baffled the various 
artifices of the devil, with the sign of the 
cross; rendered the heaviest stone light; 
by a short prayer raised to life a novice 
who had been ciuslied by the fall of a 
wall ;" and after other wonders died, about 
the year 543, aged 63.* 

Pope St. Gregory, of whom some 
account is given on his festival, (see 
March 12,) wrote the life and miracles 
of St. Benedict.f This work of many 
chapters relates howBenedict dispossessed 
a certain clerk of the devil ; how he 
miraculously discovered the hiding of a 
flagon of wine ; how in a scarcity two 
hundred bushels of meal were miracu- 
lously brought to his monastery ; how a 
boy marvellously cast out of his grave, 
was miraculously kept in it by St. Bene- 
dict putting the host on his body ; how a 
glass bottle cast down on the stones was 
not broken ; how an empty tun was filled 
with oil by his prayers ; how he gave 
another monk a slap in the face and drove 

* Alban Butler, the English biographer of St. 
Benedict, and tlie rest of the saints, died in May, 
773, aged fti. 

+ Pope St. Gregory's labour is translated under tlie 
title of "The Life and Miracles of our Hnlie Father 
St. Benedict — I'ermiisti Haperiorum. Printed 34). 
62S.' IPmo. 

the devil out of him ; how he saw the soul 
of his sister in form of a dove ; how he 
foretold his own death ; how he per- 
formed miracles too many to be liere re- 
lated ; all which, however, may be seen 
in the said life of St. Benedict, by the 
said pope St. Gregory, who it will be 
remembered is called by way of distinction 
St. Gregory the Great. 

St. Benedict founded the order of monks 
under his name. A reader wiio desires 
to be acquainted with its rules may con- 
suit Mr. Fosbroke's "Britisli Monachism," 
who remarks, that monkery is an institu- 
tion founded upon the first principles of 
religious virtue, wrongly understood and 
wrongly directed. He then proceeds to 
remark, that, " If man be endowed with 
various qualities, in order to be severely 
punished for using them, God is made 
the tempter of vice, and his works foolish. 
If voluntary confinement, vegetable eat- 
ing, perpetual praying, wearing coarse 
clothing, and mere automatical action 
through respiration, be the standard of 
excellence, then the best man is only a 
banel organ set to psalm-tunes." 


1556. Thomas Cranmer, archbishop 
of Canterbury, was burnt for heresy at 
Oxford, between Baliol college and St. 
Mary's church. 

A correspondent,LF.CTOR, communicates 
that there is against the south wall of 
Camberwell church, an inscription com- 
memorative of "Bartholomew Scott, esq. 
justice of peace in the county of 
Surrey," in which he is said to have mar- 
ried " Margaret, the widow of the right 
reverend prelate and martyr, Thomas 
Cranmer, archbishop of Canterburie." 
Strype, (Life, p. 418. b. lii. ch. xxviii.) 
says, that the name of Cranmer's last 
wife was Ann; and that she survived 
him, was living towards the latter end of 
archbishop Parker's time, and " for he"* 
subsistence enjoyed an abbey in Notting- 
hamshire." He does not seem very san- 
guine on this head, but gives the passage 
on authority of " a very angry book, 
writ against the execution of justice in 
England by cardinall Alien." Fox, in his 
" Actes and Monumentes," says, that 
Cranmer's wife was " a Dutchewoman, 
kynne to the wyfe of Osiaiider ;" and that 
Cranmer having " sold hys plate, and 
payed all his debts, so that no man could 
ask him a grote," left his wife and children 
unorovided. The marriage of " Bartholo- 



mew Scott, esq." with Cranmer's widow, 
was certainly an act of noble disinterested- 
ness. He is celebrated for his never- 
dying virtues, and described as a " valiant, 
wise, and religious gentleman," of" right 
worshipful and ancient familie." 


Bulbous Fumitory. Fumaria biilbosa. 
Dedicated to St Bennet. 

Mm\) 22. 

St. Basil of Ancyra, a. d. 362. St. 

Paul, Bp. St. Lea, a. d. 384. St 

Deogratias, Bp. of Carthage, a.d. 4'^7. 

St. Catharine of Sweden, Abbess, a. d. 



1687. John Baptist Lulli, the cele- 
brated musician, died, aged 54. He was 
born at Florence, in 1634, and from being 
page to madame Montpensier, niece to 
Louis XIV. became superintendent of 
music to that monarch. 

The Plague in London. 

In March, 1665, London abounded in 
wealth and grandeur, in comparison with 
its state in former ages. Goldsmiths' shops 
shone with plate all along the south-side 
of the street called Cheapside, then named 
Goldsmiths'-row. The Strand then united 
London and Westminster by a range of 
palaces, inhabited by the nobility, with 
gardens in the rear reaching to the 
lliames, from whence through water- 
gates they descended by stairs to take 
water. Each of these mansions was 
named after its owner or occupier ; as 
Essex, Arundel, Norfolk, Salisbury, Wor- 
cester, Exeter, Hungerford, Howard, York, 

and Northumberland. They were buih 
at equal distances from each other, in the 
grandest style of antique architecture. 
Such was- London in March 1665, when 
it was visited by the plague, which raged 
with such unabating fatality, that three, 
four, and tive thousand of the inhabitants 
died weekly. Deaths increased so fast 
that the usual mode of interment could 
no longer be observed ; large pits were 
dug at' HoUywell-mount, and in other 
suburbs of the city, to which the dead 
were carried in carts, collected by the ring 
of a bell, and the doleful cry of " Bring 
out your dead." The bodies were brought 
out of the houses, and placed in the carts 
with no other covering than rugs or sheets 
tied round them, and were thrown into the 
pits in promiscuous heaps. Trade was at a 
stand, the shops were shut up, every day 
had the appearance of a sabbath ; grass 
grew on the Royal Exchange, and most 
of the public streets ; and Whitechapel 
might be mistaken for green fields. 

THE season. 

Dr. Forster observes, in his " Peren- 
nial Calendar," that about this time spi- 
ders begin to appear in the gardens, for 
in winter they are only seen m houses; 
and that the species which inhabits our 
dwellings, is quite distinct from the gar- 
den spider. These are a very interesting 
tribe of insects, in spite of their ugly ap- 
pearance, and the general dislike which 
most persons, especially females, attach to 
them, in common with earwigs and other 
unsightly insects. Naturalists have found 
out this curious propensity in spiders, 
that they seem remarkably fond of music, 
and have been known to descend from 
the ceiling during concerts, and to retire 
when the strain was finished ; of which 
the following old verses, from the " An- 
thologia Borealis et Ausiralis," remind 
us: — 

To a Spider which inhabited a Cell. 

In this wild, groping, daik, and drearie cove. 

Of wife, of children, and of health bereft, 
I hailed thee, friendly spider, who hadst wove 

Thy mazy net on yonder mouldering raft : 
Would that the cleanlie housemaid's foot had left 

Thee tarrying here, nor took thy life away ; 
For thou, from out this scare old ceiling's cleft. 

Came down each morn to hede my plaintive lay ; 
Joying like me to heare sweete musick play, 
Wherewith I'd fein beguile the dull dark lingering day, 




Pilewort. Ficaria verna. 
Dedicated to St. Catharine of Sweden. 

iHard) -23. 

Sf. Alphonsiis Taribius, Abp. of Lima, 
A. D. 160(i. Sts. Victorian, &c. a. d. 
484. St. Edelwald, a. d. 699. 

St. Edelwald. 
This was an English benedictine 
monk of Rippon, who became a hermit, 
and was buried by St. Cuthbert in St. 
Peter's church, at Lindisfarne. 

1801. Paul, emperor of Russia, was 
strangled at St. Petersburg 

floral direciory. 

Peerless Daflbdil. Narcissus incompa- 


Dedicated to St. Alphonsus. 

iiflarrib 24. 

Caml)ridge Term ends. 

St. Iren(Biis, Bp. of Sirmium, a d. S04. 
St. Simon, an Infant Martyr. 67. 
1 fniliam of Norwich. 

I St. Simon, an Infant. 

, The Jews are said to have murdered 
this infant in 1472. After having delibe- 
rated at their synagogue in the holy week, 
on the preparations for their passover, 
they came to the resolution of crucifying 
a child on Good Friday, and having 
stolen Simon, they made him the victim, 
and sung around his body while elevated. 
Whenever an act of cruelty was to be 
perpetrated on the Jews, fables like these 
were forged, and the brutal passions of 
the mob let loose upon the life and wealth 
of fugitive Israelites. 

St. IVilliam of Norwich, a. d. 1137, 
Was another of these pretended mar- 
tyrs to Jewish hatred. Weever states, 
that " the Jews in the principal cities of 
the kingdom, did use sometimes to steal 
away, and crucify some neighbour's male 
child," as if it were a common practice. 
Since protestantism, no such barbarities 
have been imputed to the Jews 

1580. Tlie first bombs were thrown 
upon the town of Wachtendonck in Guel- 
derland. Ilie invention is commonly at- 
tributed to Galen, bishop of Munster. 

172G. Daniel Whitby, the learr.pd 
commentator on the New Testament, died. 
He was born at Rushden, Norlhan)pion- 
shire, in 1638, and was eminent foi ability' 
and honesty throughout his life. 


Golden Saxifrage. Chrysosplemim oppc- 


Dedicated to St. Irenceus. 

ilard) 25. 

Lady Day. Holiday at the Public OiTices, except 
the Excise, Stamp, and Custom. 

The Annunciation of the Blessed Firgin 
Mary. St. Cammin, Abbot, a. d. 653. 

?Catrp JBay* 

The Roman Catholic festival of the 
Annunciation is commonly called in 
England lady day, an abridgement of 
the old term Our Lady's Day, or the Day 
of our blessed Lady. 

This is a '• gaudy day " in the Romish 
church. Deemrrig the mother of Christ 
an intercessor and mediatrix, it offers 
innumerable honours and devotions to 
her. Hail Mary ! resounds in the masses 
to her praise ; and the worshippers of her 
shrines and resemblances, are excited to a 
fervour of devotion which would astonish, 
if it were not known that sculpture, 
painting, poetry, vocal and instrumental 
music, have been added to revive the 
recollection of monkish fables, and early 
impressions in her behalf. 

In the (i^oltlcn Hfgcntf, a book for- 
merly read instead of the New Testament, 
but now, in degree, supplanted by But- 
ler's more voluminous and almost equally 
miraculous " Lives of the Saints," there 
is a story in honour of the virgin, con- 
cerning a noble and ignorant knight, 
who, to amend his life, entered an abbey, 
but was so incapable of learning, that he 
could say nothing but Ave Maria, which 
words he continually repeated wherever 
he was. When this knight died he was 
buried in the church-yard of the abbey, 
and there afterwards grew out of his 
grave a fair flenr de lis, and in every 
flower grew, in letters of gold, the words 
Ave Maria ; and at the miracle, the 
brethren marvelled, and opened the 
sepulchre, and found the root oixhe flenr 
de lis came out of the mouth of the said 
knight ; and then they understood that 
he was to be honoured for his great df vo- 

Vol. I. 




tion to the virgin, by using the words Ave 

There is another story in the " Golden 
Legend " of" another knyght." " He had 
a fayre place bisyde the hye waye 
where moche people passed, wiiome he 
robbed," and so he did all his life; yet 
he had " a good custom" of saluting the 
virgin every day, by saying Ave Maria, 
and so he went on committing highway 
robberies, and saluting the virgin day by 
day, till his people having put " a holy 
man " in bodily fear and robbed him, 
the said " holy man " desired to be 
brought before their master,the knight, and 
seeing him, required him to summon all 
his attendants, which the knight did ; 
but the " holy man " objected that one 
of them was not present. Then the knight 
perceived that his chamberlain was not 
there, and called for him ; and when the 
holy man saw the chamberlain, he con- 
iured him to declare who he was, and the 
chamberlain being so enforced answered, 
" I am no man, but am a devil in the form 
of a man •," and he acknowledged that he 
had abided with the knight fourteen years, 
and watched him night and day, hoping 
the knight might leave off saying the 
salutation Ave Maria, that so he miglit 
strangle him, " and brynge him to hell," 
because of his evil life ; but, because there 
passed no day without the knight saying 
Ave Maria, the devil could not have him 
for all his long waiting. Then the 
knight fell down at the feet of the holy 
man, and demanded pardon of his sins, 
and the " holy man " commanded the 
devil to depart ; wherefore says the 
" Golden Legend," " let us pray to the 
gloryous virgyn Mary, that she kepe us 
from the devyll." 

The festival of the annunciation is kept 
at Rome by sumptuous shows. The author 
of " Rome in the nineteenth Century'' re- 
lates the pope's proceedings on the occa- 
sion : " We drove through streets lined 
with expecting crowds, and windows 
hung with crimson and yellow silk dra- 
peries, and occupied by females in their 
most gorgeous attire, till we made a stop 
near the church before which the pope's 
horse-guards, in their splendia full-dress 
uniforms, were stationed to keep the 
ground ; all of whom, both officers and 
men, wore in their caps a sprig of myrtle, 
as a sign of rejoicing. After waiting a 
short time, the procession appeared, 
headed by another detachment of the 
guards, mounted on prancing black 

chargers, who rode forward to clear ihr 
way, accompanied by such a flourish ol 
trumpets and kettle-drums, that it looked 
at first like any thing but a peaceable or 
religious proceeding. This martial array 
was followed by a bareheaded priest, on 
a white mule, bearing the host in a gold 
cup, at the sight of which every body fell' 
upon their knees. The pope used for- 
merly to ride upon the white mule him- 
self, and all the cardinals used to follow 
him in their magnificent robes of state, 
mounted either on mules or hoises; and 
as the Eminentissimi are, for the most 
part, not very eminent horsemen, they 
were generally fastened on, lest they 
should tumble off. This cavalcade must 
have been a very entertaining sight. 
Pius VL, who was a very handsome 
man, kept up this custom, but the (then) 
present pope (Pius VH.) is far too infirm 
for such an enterprise ; so he followed the 
man on the white mule, in a state coach ; 
at the very sight of which, we seemed to 
have made a jump back of two hundred 
years at least. Jt was a huge machine, 
composed almost entirely of plate-glass, 
fixed in a ponderous carved and gilt 
frame, through which was distinctly visi- 
ble the person of the venerable old pope, 
dressed in robes of white and silver, and 
incessantly giving his benediction to the 
people, by a twirl of three fingers ; which 
are typical of the Father, the Son, and 
the Holy Ghost ; the last being represented 
by the little finger. On the gilded back 
of this vehicle, the only part that was not 
made of glass, was a picture of the pope 
in his chair of state, and the virgin Mary 
at his feet. Tliis extraordinary machine 
was drawn by six black horses, with 
superb harness of crimson velvet and 
gold ; the coachmen, or rather postillions, 
were dressed in coats of silver stuff, with 
crimson velvet breeches, and full bot- 
tomed wigs well powdered, without hats. 
Three coaches, scarcely less antiquely 
superb, followed with the assistant car- 
dinals, and the rest of the train. In the 
inside of the church, the usual tiresome 
ceremonies went on that take place when 
the pope is present. He is seated on a 
throne, or chair of state ; the cardinals, 
in succession, approach and kiss his iiand, 
retire one step, and make three bows oi 
nods, one to him in front, and one on the 
right hand, and another on the left; 
which are intended for him (as the per- 
sonification of the Father,) and for tht 
Son, and for the Ilolv (jliost, on eithei 



sidfi of liim; and all the cardinals having 
gone through these motions, and the 
inferior priests having kissed his toe — 
that is, the cross, embroidered on his 
shoe — high mass begins. The pope 
kneels during the elevation of the host, 
prays in silence before the high altar, 
gets up and sits down, reads something 
out of a great book which they brmg to 
him, with a lighted taper held beside it; 
and, having gone through many more 
such ceremonies, finally ends as he began, 
with giving his benediction with three 
fingers, all the way he goes out. During 
all the time of this high mass, the pope's 
military band, stationed on the p.'atform 
in front of the church, played so many 
clamorous martial airs, that it efi'ectually 
put to flight any ideas of religious so- 
'emnity " 

In England, Ladi/ Day is only remem- 
bered as the first quarter-day in the year, 
and is therefore only kept by tenants who 
truly pay rent to their landlords. A few 
years ago a country gentleman wrote a 
letter to a lady of rank in town, and sent 
it through the general post with the fol- 
lowing address : 

"Tlie 25th of March, 

"Foley-place, London." 

The postman duly delivered the letter at 
the house of Lady Day for whom it was 


168(5. Parochial charity schools, for 
the education of the children of poor per- 
sons, were instituted in London and its 

1748. A fire broke out at one o'clock 
in the morning in 'Change-alley, Corn- 
hill, London, which raged for ten hours, 
consuming all the buildings in 'Change- 
alley and Birchin-lane ; and in Cornhill, 
from 'Change-alley to St. Michael's-alley, 
mcluding several celebrated taverns and 
coffee-houses, and many valuable shops, 
including five booksellers. There were 
eighty houses destroyed by this confla- 

1809. Anna Seward, the friend of Dr. 
Darwin, and recollected for her life of 
him, and for her poetry and correspond- 
ence, died in the bishop's palace at 
f-ichfield, aged 66. She was born at 
Eyan, in Derbyshire. Her poetry is easy, 
'ather than vigorous. 


Marigold. Calendula Officinalis. 
Annunciation of V. Mary. 

Mm\) 26. 

Oxford Term ends. 

St. Ludger, Bp. of Munster, a.d. 809 
St. Braulio, Bp. of Saragossa, a. d 


Now in many situations may be heard 
the cuckoo. Its distant note intmiating 
dislike to human approach, comes upon 
the ear as a soft welcome from a shy 
stranger : — 

Hail, beauteous stranger of the grove. 

Thou messenger of spring ! 
How heaven repairs thy rural seat, 

And woods thy welcome sing. 

What time the daisy decks the green 

Thy certain voice we hear ; 
Hast thou a star to guide thy path. 

Or mark the rolling year? 

Delightful visitant ! with thee 

I hail the time of flowers, 
And hear the sounds of music sweet 

From birds among the bowers. 

Tlie school-boy wandering thro* the wood 

To pull the primrose gay. 
Starts — the new voice of spring to hear 

And imitates thy lay. 

Soon as the pea puts on its bloom, 

Tnoufliest thj vocal vale. 
An annual guest in other lands. 

Another spring to hail. 

Sweet bird, thy bower is ever green^ 

Thy sky is ever clear ; 
Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, 

No winter in thy year I 

O ! could I fly, I'd fly with thee ; 

We'd make with social wing 
Our aimual visit o'er the globe. 

Companions of the spring. Logan. 


Lurid Henbane. Hyoscy-amus Scopolia. 
Dedicated to St. Braulio 

iHard) 27. 

St. John of Egypt, Hermit, a. d. SM. 
St. Rupert, or ilobert, Bp. of Saltz- 

St. John of E;ypt 
Was a hermit, inured to obedience by 
an ancient holy anchoiet, " who madi 



t\m \r-'*fx a dry stick for a whole year, as 
if it were a live plant." He walled him- 
self up at the top of a rock, " from the for- 
tieth or forty-second to the ninetieth 
year of his age," and "drew the admira- 
tion of the whole world on him," says 

Butler, by " the lustre of his mirarles, 
and the "fame of his predictions.'' 
1801. The peace of Amiens between 
France and England was signed in 


This is the first Sunday before Easter, 
and is sometimes called Passion Sunday. 
It is denominated Palm Sunday, because 
on this day the Roman catholic church 
ordains boughs or branches of palm trees 
to be carried in procession, in imitation 
o( those strewed before Christ when he 
rodf into Jerusalem. In this monkish 
procession the host was carried upon an 
ass, branches and flowers were strewed 
on the road, the richest cloths were laid 
down, and others were hune up. The 

palms were consecrated by the priest, 
and after they were used they were pre- 
served to be burned for holy ashes, to lay 
on the heads of the people on ^sh Wed- 
nesday in the following year, as before- 
mentioned (see p. 261,) on that day. 

On Palm Suneiap, the palm flowers and 
leaves to be consecrated by the officiating 
prelate or priest were laid upon the high 
altar, and those for the poor laitt/ being 
placed upon the south step of the alt.u 
the priest arrayed in a red cope pi a- 



ceeded to consecrate tliem by a prayer, 
commencing " I conjure thee, thou crea- 
ture of flowers and branches, in the name 
of God the Father," &c. This was to 
displace the devil or his influences, if he 
or they lurked or were hidden in or about 
the " creature of flowers and branches." 
Then followed a prayer wherein he said, 
with crosses, " We humbly beseech thee 
that thy truth may + sanctify this crea- 
ture of flowers and branches, and slips 
of palms,or boughs of trees,which weoflfer," 
&c. Then the " creature of flowers and 
branches " was fumed with smoke of 
frankincense from the censers, and there 
were other prayers with crossings, and 
they were sprinkled with lioly water with 
this supplication : " Bless + and sanc- 
tify + these branches of palms, and other 
trees and flowers," &c. Then the sacrists 
distributed the palms to the abbots, priors, 
and nobler persons, and the flowers and 
leaves to the others. When this was 
done the procession moved, and after- 
wards made a stand while two priests 
brought a Pascal in which the crucifix 
was laid ; afterwards the banner and 
cross-bearers filed off" to the right and to 
the left, and the boys and monks of the 
convent arranged themselves, and, after 
a short service, the priests with the tomb, 
headed by the banner and cross, passed 
between the monks, who knelt as they 
passed. When they came to the city- 
gates they divided again on two sides, 
and the shrine being put on a table, was 
covered with cloth. Above the entrance 
of the gates, in a place handsomely pre- 
pared with hangings, were boys with 
other singers whom the chanter had ap- 
pointed, and these sang, " Gloria, Laus," 
" Glory, praise," &c. After having made 
a procession through the city, they re- 
turned to the convent-gate, where the 
shrine was laid on the table and covered 
with cloth, and a religious service was 
performed. The monks then returned to 
the church, and stood before the crucifix 
uncovered, while mass was performed ; 
and after they had communicated, the 
deacon first and the rest afterwards, they 
offered their palms and flowers, at the 

It was also an old Roman catholic cus- 
tom on Palm Sunday, to draw about the 
lown a wooden ass with a figure on it, 
representing Christ riding into Jerusalem, 

* Foibroke'» Britiili MonarV 
Antiq. Sec. 

Brand's Pop. 

and the people strewing palms before it 
Googe's Nuogeorgus says : — 

A woodden Asse they have, and 

Image great that on him rides, 
But undenieatti the Asse's feete 

a table broad there slides. 
Being borne on wheeles, which ready dresl, 

and al things meete therforc. 
The Asse is brought abroad and set 

before the churche's doore : 
The people all do come, and bowes 

of trees and Palmes they here, 
Which things against the tempest great 

the Parson conjures there. 
And straytvvayes downe before the Asse, 

upon his face he lies, 
Whome there an other Priest doth strike 

with rodde of largest sise : 
He rising up, two lubbours great 

upon their faces fall. 
In straunge attire, and lothsomely, 

with filthie tune, they ball : 
Who, when agaitie they risen are, 

with stretching out their hande. 
They poyut unto the wooden knight, 

and, singing as they stande. 
Declare that that is he that came 

into the worlde to save. 
And to redeeme such as in him 

their hope assured have : 
And even the same that long agone, 

while in the streate he roade, 
The people mette, and Olive-bowes 

so thicke before him stroade 
This being soung, the people cast 

the braunches as they passe. 
Some part upon the Image, and 

some part upon the Asse : 
Before whose feete a wondrous heape 

of bowes and braunches ly : 
This done, into the Church he strayght 

is drawne full solemly : 
The shaven Priestes before them marchc. 

the people follo%v fast. 
Still striving who shall gather first 

the bowes that downe are cast: 
For falsely they beleeve that these 

have force and vertue great, 
Against the rage of winter stormes 

and thunders flashing keate. 
In some place wealthie citizens, 

and men of sober chere. 
For no small summe doe hire this Asse 

with them about to here. 
And manerly they use the same, 

not suffering any by 
To touch this Asse, nor to presume 

unto his presence ny. 
For they suppose that in this thing, 

they Christ do lightly serve, 
And well of him accepted are, 

and great rewardes deserve. 

When the wooden ass had performed 



in the chutch procession, the boys hired 
"him : 

The Sexten pleasde with price, and looking 

well no harme be done : 
They take the Asse, and through the streets 

and crooked lanes they rone, 
Whereas they common verses sing, 

according to the guise. 
The people giving money, breade, 

and egges of largest sise. 
Of this their gaines they are compelde 

the maister halfe to give, 
Least he alone without his portion 

of the Asse should live. 

On the Romish processioning on Palm 
Sunday, it is observed by an old writer 
that, "Among x thousand, scarce one 
knew what this meant. They have their 
laudable dumme ceremonies, with Lentin 
crosse and Uptide erosse, and these two 
must justle til lent break his necke. Then 
cakes must be caste out of the steple, that 
al the boyes in the parish must lie scam- 
bling together by the eares, tyl al the 
parish falleth a laughyng. But, lorde, 
what asses-play made they of it in great 
cathedral churches and abbies. One 
comes forth in his albe and his long stole 
(for so they call their girde that they put 
about theyr neckes,) thys must be leashe 
wise, as hunters weares their homes. — 
This solempne Syre played Christe's part, 
a God's name. Then another companye 
of singers, chyldren and al, song, in prick- 
song, the Jewe's part — and the Deacon 
read the middel text. The Prest at the 
Alter althis while, because it was tediouse 
to be unoccupyed, made Crosses of Palme 
to set upon your doors, and to beare in 
your purses, to chace away the Divel."* 

Dr. Fulke, opposing the Catholics, ob- 
serves on their carrying of the host on 
Palm Sunday, — " It is pretty sport, that 
you make the priests carry this idol to 
supply the room of the ass on which Christ 
did ride. Thus you turn the holy mys- 
tery of Christ's riding to Jerusalem to a 
May-game and pagent-play." In the 
accounts of St. Andrew Hubbard's pa- 
rish, there are Palm Sunday charges for the 
following items : In 1520, eightpence for 
the hire of an angel. In 1535-7, an- 
other eightpence for a priest and a child 
that played as a messenger : in that year 
the angel was hired for fourpence. By 
the churchwardens of St. Mary-at-hill, in 
1451, fourpence was paid to one Lore- 

* From a "Dialogue, concerning: the chyefest 
etreiniiriyes hy the Imives of i\j.ti-C!irisl, 1664," 
iXiiio. Qnoleid by Brand. 

man for playing the prophet on Palm 
Sunday. Though Ro-man catholic ceremo- 
nies were generally disused under Henry 
VHL, yet he declared that the bearing of 
palms on Palm Sunday was to be con- 
tinued and not cast away ; and it appears, 
that they were borne in England untii 
the second year of Edward VI. In 
" Stowe's Chronicle," by Howes, the prac- 
tice is said to 'nave been discontinued in 

It was likewise a Roman catholic cus- 
tom to resort to " our lady of Nants- 
well," at Little Conan, in Cornwall, with 
a cross of palm ; and the people, after 
making the priest a present, were allowed 
to throw the cross into the well ; if it 
swam, the thrower was to outlive the 
year ; if it sunk, he was not.f 

Recently, it is related, that on the Sa- 
turday before Palm Sunday, the boys of 
the grammar-school at Lanark, according 
to ancient usage, parade the streets with 
a palm, or, its substitute, a large tree of 
the willow kind, salix cafrea, in blossom, 
ornamented with daffodils, mezereon, and 
box-tree. This day there is called Palm 
Saturday, and the custom is supposed to 
be " a popish relic of very ancient stand- 
ing."I Mr. Douce, in a manuscript note^ 
cited by Mr. Ellis, says " I have some- 
where met with a proverbial saying, that he 
that hath not a palm in his hand on Palm 
Sunday, must have his hand cut off." 

According to Stowe, in the week before 
Easter, there were great shows in London 
for going to the woods, and fetching into 
the king's house a twisted tree, or iviihe ; 
and the like into the house of every man 
of note or consequence. 

Palm Sunday remains in the English 
calendars. It is still customary with 
men and boys to go a palming in London 
early on Palm Sunday morning ; that 
is, by gathering branches of the willow or 
sallow with their grey shining velvet- 
looking buds, from those trees in the vici- 
nity of the metropolis : they come home 
with slips in their hats, and sticking in the 
breast button holes of their coats, and a 
sprig in the mouth, bearing the " palm" 
branches in their hands. This usage 
remains among the ignorant from poor 
neighbourhoods, but there is still to be 
found a basket woman or two at Covent- 
garden, and in the chief markets with 
this " palm," as they call it, on the Satur- 

* Brand. 

+ Carew. 
t Sinclair'* Statist. Ati;. 



day before Palm Sunday, which they sell 
to "those who are willing to buy; but tiio 
demand of late years has been very little, 
and hence the quantity on sale is very 
imall. Nine out of ten among the pur- 
chasers buy it in imitation of others, they 
care not why ; and such purchasers, be- 
ing Londoners, do not even know the 
tree which produces it, but imagine it to 
be a " real" palm tree, and " wonder" they 
never saw any " palm" trees, and where 
they grow. 


Sweet scented Jonquil. Narcissus Odortis. 
Dedicated to ,S^ John of Egypt. 

Priscns, Mulchus, and yllexander, Mar- 
tyrs, A.u. 260. St. Sijrtiis III. Pope, 
A.D. 440. St. Gontran, King and Con- 
fessor, A.D. 593. 

On tlvs day in 1 380, gunpowder was 
first used in Europe by the Venetians 
against the Genoese. Its power is said 
by the Germans to have been discovered 
accidentally byBerthold Schwartz; but our 
Roger Bacon who died in 1278, certainly 
was acquainted with it. Gunpowder was 
known in India very early, and from thence 
the knowledge of it was obtained by the 
Arabians, who employed it in a battle 
near Mecca so long ago as the year 690. 
1 677. Wenceslaus Hollar, the engraver, 
died at Westminster. His view of Lon- 
don in Howell's " Londinopolis," and the 
numerous plates he executed for Dug- 
dale's " Monaslicon," " Warwickshire," 
" St. Paul's," " Origines Juridiciales," 
and other works have made him well 
known to the topographer and portrait 
collector; but his " muff's" and " insects" 
are particularly beautiful. His style almost 
.peculiar to himself,is known at a glance by 
the experienced eye ; Gaywood, in por- 
traits, and King, m views, were inferior 
artists of the same school. Merian, in 
some insects, rivals him formidably. Hol- 
lar's labour was immense as may be seen 
from Vertue's catalogue of his prints; yet 
ne often worked at fourpence an hour, and 
perished in poverty. 

1801. Sir Ralph Abercrombie died in 
Egypt. He received his death-wound on 
the 21st., during his memorable victory 
over the French at Alexandria. 

1802. Pallas, a new planet, was dis- 
covered by Dr. Olbers, of Bremen in 


Lesser Leopardsbane. Doronicum Pla^i- 


Dedicated to St. Prisons. 


Sts. Jonas, Barachisius, &c. a. d. All. 

Sts. y^rinogastes, Archiniinns, and Sa- 

tuTus, A. D. 457. St. Eustasius, oi 

Eustachius, Abbot, a. b. 625. St. 

Gundlens, a Welsh King, 5lh Cent. 

St. Mark, Bishop, 4th Cent. 

1315. Raymond Lulle, the most cele 
brated chemist and alchymist of his time, 
was stoned to death by the natives of 
Mauritania, whither he had gone on a 
religious mission, at the age of eighty. 
His attention was directed to chemistry 
by the power of love. A lady, very 
handsome, with whom he was passion- 
ately enamoured, refused to marry him. 
One day, when he renewed his solicita- 
tion, she showed her bosom inflamed 
by a cancer. Young Lulle instantly took 
leave, with the resolution to cure, and it 
possible, conquer the heart of his mistress. 
He searched with all the ardour, which 
aflfection and compassion could inspire, 
into the secrets of medicine and chemistry, 
and had the good fortune to cure, and to 
marry her. After her death he attached 
himself to the church. The inhabitants 
of the island of Majorca, where he was 
born, in 1236, revere him as a martyr. 

1461. The battle which decided the 
claims of the houses of York and Lancas- 
ter was fought between Towton and Sax- 
ton, two villages near Yoik. It com- 
menced in a snow storm at day break, 
was contested with fearful obstinacy till 
three in the afternoon, and terminated in 
a deluge of blood. Eight and thirty 
thousand human beings were left dead 
on the field ; of whom the heralds ap- 
pointed to number the slain, leturned 
that twenty-eight thousand were Lancas- 
trians. Edward, duke of York, who won 
the day, rode from the scene of carnage 
to York, where he ordered the death of 
several prisoners ; while Henry VI. ol 
Lancaster, who lost the crown, escaped 
with great difficulty to the bordere. 

floral riRECTORY. 

Oxelip. Primula elatior 

Dedicated to St. Eustasius. 

Fumitory. Fumaria officinalis. 

Dedicated to St. Jonas 



Mm]) 30. 

St. John CUmacus. St. Zozimns, Bishop 
of Syracuse, a. n. 660. St. Regulus, 
or Rienl, Bishop of Senlis. 

St. John CUmacus, a. d. 605, 
Was caverned as a hermit in a rock 
near Mount Sinai, in Syria, and became 
at seventy-five, abbot and superior-general 
of all the monks and hermits of the 
country. He admired one of the princi- 
pal citizens of Alexandria in Egypt, who, 
petitioning to become a monk, was or- 
dered to remain without the gate, and 
manifested his obedience by staying there 
for seven years, and begging prayers for 
his leprous soul of every passenger. St. 
John also admired a monkish cook, 
because he generally cried while he 
cooked, and assigned as a reason, that 
" the fire he always had before his eyes, 
reminded him of that fire which will burn 
souls for all eternity."* It is related that 
a woman who had committed so enormous 
a sin that she dare not confess it, came to 
St. John, who bade her write it, and seal 
it, and give it to him, and he would pray 
for her ; this she did, and shortly after 
St. John died. The woman sorely afraid 
that her written secret would be read, 
wept and prayed at St. John's tomb, and 
begged he would appear and tell her 
what he had done with the paper; on a 
sudden, St. John came forth habited like a 
bishop, with a bishop on each side of 
him, and he said to the woman, " Why 
troublest thou me so much, and these 
saints with me ? thou sufferest us to have 
no rest : look here, our clothes are all 
wet with thy tears.'' Then he delivered to 
tier the paper, sealed as she had given it 
to him, and said, " See here, look at the 
seal, open the writing, and read it." So 
she did ; and she found all her sin " de- 
faced clean out ;" and instead thereof was 
written, " All thy sins are forgiven, and 
put away by the prayer of St. John, my 
servant." Then she returned thanks, and 
St. John and his two bishops returned to 
their sepulchres. 


Rough Carameni. Cardemeni hhsnta. 

Dedicated to St. John of CUmacus, 

Lesser Daffodil. A\ireissus minor. 

Dedicated to St. Zozimns. 

iHardj 31. 

St. Benjamin, Deacon, jNIartyr, a. d. 421, 
St. Acacius, or Achates, Bishop o* 
Antioch, a. d. 230, or 251. St. Guy 
A. D. 1046. 

1814. On this day the sovereigns who 
have since formed ihe holy alliance, en- 
tered Paris at the head of the Russian 
troops. The capitulation of this capital 
was succeeded by the return of the Bour- 
bons to France. 

iHaunti|) COurstrai), 

* Butler'.i Saints, 


Maundy Thursday is always the 
Thursday before Easter; its name has 
occasioned some trouble to antiquaries. 
One writer conceives maundi/ to be cor- 
rupted from the mandate of Christ to liis 
disciples to break bread in remembrance 
of him : or from his other mandate, after 
he had washed their feet, to love one 
another.* With better reason it is con- 
ceived to be derived from the Saxon word 
mand, which afterwards became maund, 
a name for a basket, and subsequently for 
any gift or offering contained in the 
basket. Thus Shakspeare says, " a thou- 
sand favours from her maund she drew :" 
and Hall in his satires, speaks of " a 
maund charged with household merchan- 
dize :" so also Drayton tells of " a little 
wiaujirf being made of osiers small;" and 
Herrick says, 

*' Behold, for us, the naked graces stay 
"WWh mannds oi roses, for to strew theway,'* 

The same poet speaks of maundie as 
alms : 

" All's gone, and death hath taken 

Away from us 

Our maundie, thus 
The widdowes stand forsaken." 

Thus then, " Maundij Thursda;/, the day 
preceding Good Friday, on which the 
king distributes alms to a certain number 
of poor persons at Whitehall, is so named 
from the maunds in which the gifts were 

* Diinton's Rritisli Apollo. 

+ Arclidcaron Narcs's " Glossary," wherein Ihc 
authorities briefly cited above artesetfoith at lari^e. 



According to annual custom, on Maun- 
dy Thursday, 1814, tlie royal donations 
wcro distributed at the Lliapel Royal, 
^^'l.itellall. In the morning, Dr. Carey, 
tlie sub-almoner, and Mr. Ilanby, the 
secretary to the lord high almoner, Mr. 
Nost, and others belonging to the lord 
chamberlain's office, attended by a party 
of iiie yeomen of the guard, distributed 
to seventy-five poor women, and seventy- 
five poor men, being as many as the king 
was years old, a quantity of salt fish, con- 
sisting of salmon, cod, and herrings, 
pieces of very fine beef, five loaves of 
bread, and some ale to drink the king's 
health. Mr. Hanby gave notice that in 
future their cases must be certified by the 
minister of the parish, by order of the 
lord almoner. At three o'clock they 
assembled again, the men on one side the 
criapel, and the women on the other. A 
procession entered, of those engaged in 
the ceremony, consisting of a party of 
yeoman of the guard, one of them car- 
rying a large gold dish on his head, con- 
taining 150 bags, with seventy-five silver 
pennies in each, for the poor people, 
•which was placed in the royal closet. 
Tliey were followed by the sub-almoner in 
his robes, with a sash of fine linen over 
his shoulder and crossing his waist. He 
was followed by two boys, two girls, the 
secretary, and another gentleman, with 
similar sashes, &c. Sec, all carrying large 
nosegays. The church evening service 
was then performed, at the conclusion of 
which the silver pennies were distributed, 
and woollen cloth, linen, shoes and stock- 
ings, to the men and women, and a cup 
of wine to drink the king's health. 

Anciently, on Maundy Thursday, the 
kings and queens of England washed and 
kissed the feet of as many poor men and 
women as they were years old, besides 
bestowing their maundy on each. This 
was in imitation of Christ washing his dis- 
ciples' feet. Queen Elizabeth performed 
this at Greenwich, when she was thirty- 
nine years old, on which occasion the feet 
of the same number of poor persons were 
first washed by the yeomen of the laun- 
dry with warm water and sweet herbs, 
afterwards by the sub-almoner, and lastly, 
by the queen herself; the person who 
washed, making each time a cross on the 
pauper's foot above the toes, and kissing 
it. This ceremony was performed by the 
queen, kneeling, being attended by thirty- 
nine ladies and gentlewomen. Clothes, 
victuals, and money were then distributed 

among the poor.* James II. is said to 
have been the last of our monarchs who 
pei formed this ceremony in person. It 
was afterwards performed by tire almoner 
On the 5th of April, 1731, it being 
Maundy Thursday, the king being then 
in his forty-eighth year, there was distri- 
buted at the Banquetting-house, White- 
hall, to forty-eight poor men and forty- 
eight poor women, boiled beef and shoul- 
ders of mutton, and small bowls of ale, 
which is called dinner; after that, large 
wooden platters of fish and loaves, viz. 
undressed, one large old ling, and one 
large dried cod ; twelve red herrings, and 
twelve white herrings, and four half quar- 
tern loaves. Each person had one platter 
of this provision ; after which was distri- 
buted to them shoes, stockings, linen and 
woollen cloth, and leathern bags, with 
one-penny, two-penny, three-penny, and 
four-penny pieces of silver, and shillings; 
to each about four pounds in value. His 
grace, the lord archbishop of York, lord 
high almoner, performed the annual cere- 
mony of washing the feet of the poor in 
the Royal Chapel, Whitehall, as was for- 
merly done by the kings tliemselves.f 

This day was also called Shere Thurs- 
day, and by corruption Chare Thursday. 
Shere Thursday signified that it was the 
day whereon the clergy were wont to 
shere or shear their heads, or get them 
shorn or shaven, and to clip their beards 
against Easter-day.| In the miraculous 
legend of St. Brandon it is related that 
he sailed with his monks to the island of 
sheep,"and on sherethursdaye,3.her souper, 
he wesshe theyr feet and kyssed them 
lyke as our lorde dyd to his dyscyples."§ 
Maundy Thursday is nowhere observed 
in London except, as before stated, at the 
Chapel Royal. 

A Holiday at all the Public Offices. 

This and Christmas-day are the only two 
close holidays now observed throughout 
London, by the general shutting up of 
shops, and the opening of all the churches. 
The dawn is awakened by a cry in the 
streets of " Hot-cross-buns ; one-a-penny 

* Gentleman's Magazine, 
t Lainbarde. 

t Brand's Pop. Antiq. Nar-es's Glossary, C.'uyra 
and shere. 
I Gulden Legend. 



buns, two-a-penny buns ; one-a-penny, 
two-a-penny, hot-cross-buns !" This pro- 
ceeds from some little "peep-o'-day boy," 
willing to take the " top of the morning" 
oefore the rest of his compeers. He 
carries his covered buns in a basket 
hanging on one arm, while his other hand 
is straightened like an open door, at the 
side of his mouth, to let forth his childish 
voice, and he " pipes and trebles out the 
sound" to the extremity of his lungs. 
Scarcely has he departed before others 
come ; "another and another still suc- 
ceeds," and at last the whole street is in 
one " common cry of buns." Old men 
and young men, young women and old 
women, big children and little children, 
are engaged in this occupation, and 
" some cry now who never cried before." 
The bun-venders who eclipse the rest in 
voice and activity, are young women who 
drive fruit-barrows — barrows, by the bye, 
are no more, but of them by and bye. A 
couple of these ex-barrow-women trip 
along, carrying a wicker clothes-basket 
between them, in which the " hot-cross- 
buns" are covered, first by a clean flannel 
or green baize, and outwardly by a clean 
white cloth, which coverings are slowly 
and partially removed, for fear of letting 
the buns cool, when a customer stops to 
buy, oi calls them to the door. They 
continue their lengthened cry, with a 
volume of concerted sound, unequalled by 
other rivals in the ephemeral Good Friday 
trade. These scenes and sounds continue 
till church-time, and resume in the after- 
noon. It partially commences on the 
evening before Good Friday, but with 
little success. 

Some thirty or forty years ago pastry- 
cooks and bakers vied with each other 
for excellence in making hot-cross-buns ; 
the demand has decreased, and so has the 
quality of the buns. But the great place 
of attraction for bun-eaters at that time 
was Chelsea ; for i/ie7-e were the two 
" roi/al bun-houses." Before and along 
the whole length of the long front of each, 
stood a flat-roofed, neat,wooden portico or 
piazza of the width of the foot-path, be- 
neath which slielter " from summer's 
heat and winter's cold," crowds of per- 
sons assembled to scramble for a chance 
of purchasing " royal hot cross Chelsea 
buns," within a reasonable time ; and 
several hundreds of square black tins, 
with dozens of hot buns on each tin, were 
disposed of in every hour from a little 
a'.'.er six in the morning, till after the 

same period in the evening of Good 
Friday. Those who knew what was 
good, better than new comers, gave the 
preference to the " old original royal 
bun-house," which had been a 6?i)t-house 
" ever since it was a house," and at which 
" the king himself once stopped," and 
who could say as much for the other? 
This was the conclusive tale at the doo"-, 
and from within the doors, of the " old 
original bun-house." Alas ! and alack ! 
there is thathouse now ; and there is the 
house that was opened as its rival ; but 
where are ye who contributed to their 
renown and custom, among the appren 
tices and journeymen, and the little com- 
fortable tradesmen of the metropolis, and 
their wives and children — where are ye ? 
With ye hath the fame of" Chelsea buns " 
departed, and the " royal bun-houses " 
are little more distinguished than the 
humble graves wherein ye rest. 

Formerly " hot-cross-buns " were com- 
monly eaten in London by families at 
breakfast, and some families still retain 
the usage. They are of the usual form 
of buns ; though they are distinguished 
from them inwardly by a sweeter taste, 
and the flavourof all-spice, and outwardly 
by the mark or sign of the cross. The 
" hot-cross-bun " is the most popular 
symbol of the Roman catholic religion in 
England that the reformation has left. Of 
the use of the cross, as a mark or sign in 
papal worship and devotion, most readers 
are aware ; for it has been insisted on by 
Roman catholic writers from the days of 
Constantine to Alban Butler himself, whc 
giving example of its great virtue on 
Good Friday, says, " to add one more in- 
stance, out of many, St. Teresa assures 
us, in her own life, that one day the 
devil, by a phantom, appeared to sit on 
the letters of her book, to disturb her at 
her devotions ; but she drove him away 
thrice by the sign of the cross, and at 
last sprinkled the book with holy water; 
after which he returned no more."* In 
the houses of some ignorant people, a 
Good Friday bun is still kept " for luck," 
and sometimes there hangs from the 
ceiling a hard biscuit-like cake of open 
cro**-work, baked on a Good Friday, to 
remain there till displaced on the next 
Good Friday by one of similar make; and 
of this the editor of the Every- Day Hook 

* Butler's Moveable Feasts, 1774, 8vo. p. 379. 



nas heard affirmed, tliat it preserves the 
house from fire ;" " no fire ever happened 
in a house that had one." This un- 
doubtedly is a relic of the old supersti- 
tion ; as is also a vulgar notion in the 
west of England, that the straight stripe 
down the shoulders of the ass, inter- 
sected by the long one from the neck to 
the tail, is a cross of honour conferied 
upon him by Christ, and that before Christ 
rode upon the ass, that animal was not so 

Hot-cross-buns are the ecclesiastical 
Euloffiee, or consecrated loaves, bestowed 
in the church as alms, and to those who 
from any impediment could not receive 
the host. They are made from the dough 
from whence the host itself is taken, and 
are given by the priest to the people af- 
ter mass, just before the congregation is 
dismissed, and are kissed before they are 
eaten. They are marked with the cross 
as our Good Friday buns are. Winckel- 
man relates this remarkable fact, that at 
Herculaneum were found two entire 
loaves of the same size, a palm and a 
naif, or five inches in diameter. They 
were marked by a cross, within which 
were four other lines ; and so the bread 
of the Greeks was marked from the ear- 
liest periods. Sometimes it had only four 
lines, and then it was called quadra. This 
bread had rarely any other mark than a 
cross, which was on purpose to divide, 
and break it more easily.* 

The TenebrcB, a Roman catholic ser- 
vice signifying darkiiess, is performed on 
and before Good Friday, to denote the 
circumstances and darkness at the cruci- 
fixion. This \s partly symbolized by a 

triangular candlestick with fourteen yel- 
low wax candles and one white one • 
seven of these yellow candles being on 
one side, the seven other yellow ones on 
the other side, and the white wax candle 
being at the top. The fourteen yellow 
candles represent the eleven apostles, the 
virgin Mary, and the women that were 
with her at the crucifixion ; the white 
candle at the top is to represent Christ. 
Fourteen psalms are sung, and at the end 
of each psalm one of the yellow candles is 
put out till the whole fouiteen are extin- 
guished, and the white candle alone left 
alight. After this and the extinction ot 
the light on the altar, " the white candle 
is taken down from the top of the trian- 
gular candlestick, and hid under the 
altar." The putting out of the fourteen 
candles is to denote the flight or mourn- 
ing of the apostles and the women ; and 
the hiding of the white candle denotes that 
Christ is in the sepulchre ; then a noise 
is made by beating the desks or books, 
and by beating the floor with the hands 
and feet, and this noise is to represent 
the earthquake and the splitting of the 
rocks at the crucifixion.* 

In the church of St. Peter's at Rome 
on Good Friday, the hundred burning 
lamps on the tomb of St. Peter are extin- 
guished, and a stupendous illuminated 
cross depends from the immense dome 
of the cathedral, as if it hung self-sup- 
ported. But to relate the papal cere- 
monies pertaining to the fast of lent, and 
its ensuing festival, would fill volumes of 
this size, and we hasten from the devices 
of men to contemplate works which all 
his art is incompetent to rival. 

Nature ' to me, thou art more beautiful 
111 tliy most simple forms, than all that man 
Hath made, with all his genius, and his power 
Of combination : for he cannot raise 
One structure, pinnacled, or domed, or gemm'd. 
By architectural rule, or cunning hand, 
Like to the smallest plant, or flower, or leaf. 
Which living hath a tongue, that dotii discourse 
l\Iost eloquent of Him, the great Creator 
Of all living things. Man's makings fail 
To tell of aught but this, that he, the framer 
Sought also to create, and fail'd, because 
No life can he impart, or breath infuse. 
To give inertness being. 

• Fosbroke's Brit. Monach. Herculaneum it will 
bf remeni'.iereri was overwhelmed and destroyed by 
tie voltanic eruption of Mount Vesuvius, A. D. 7'J 

* Butler's Moveable IVatl*. 




Next came fresh April, full of lustyhed, 
And wanton as a kid whose home new buds ; 
Upon a bull he rode, the same which led 
Europa fioting through th' Argolick fluds : 
His horns were gilden all with golden studs. 
And garnished with garlands goodly dight 
Of all the fairest flowers and freshest buds 
Which th' earth brings forth ; and wet he seem'd in sight 
With waves, through which he waded for his love's delight. Spenser. 

This IS the fourth month of the year. 
Its Latin name is Aprilis, from aperio, to 
open or set forth. The Saxons called it, 
Oster or Eastermonath, in which month, 
the feast of the Saxon goddess, Eastre, 
Easter, or Eoster is said to have been 
celebrated.* April, with us, is some- 
times represented as a girl clothed in 
green, with a garland of myrtle and haw- 
thorn buds ; holding in one hand prim- 
roses and violets, and in the other the 
zodiacal sign, Taurus, or the bull, into 
which constellation the sun enters during 
this month. The Romans consecrated 
the first of April to Venus, the goddess of 
beauty, the mother of love, the queen of 
laughter, the mistress of the graces ; and 
the Roman widows and virgins assembled 
in the lem.ple of Virile Fortune, and dis- 

* Sayer's Disquisitions. 

closing their personal deformities, prayed 
the goddess to conceal them from theii 

In this month the business of creation 
seems resumed. Tiie vital spark rekin- 
dles in dormant existences; and all things 
" live, and move, and have their being." 
The earth puts on her livery to await the 
call of her lord ; the air breathes gently 
on his cheek, and conducts to his ear the 
warblings of the birds, and the odours of 
new-born herbs and flowers ; the great 
eye of the world " sees and snines'' with 
bright and gladdening glances ; the wa- 
ters teem with life , man himself feels the 
revivifying and all-pervading influercej 
and his 

spirit holds communion sweet 

With the blighter spirits of the sky. 

• Lenipriere. 



St. Hugh, Bp. A.D. 1132. St. Mellto, 
Bp. A. D. 175. -S^. Gilbert, Bp. of 
Cathness, a. d. 1240. 

On the fiist of April, 1712, Lord Bo- 
lingbroke stated, that in the wais, called 
the " glorious wars of queen Anne," the 
duke of Marlborough had not lost a single 
battle — and yet, that the French had car- 
ried their point, the succession to the 
Spanish monarchy, the pretended cause 
of these wars. Dean Swift called this 
statement " a due donation for * All 
Fools' Day !' " 

On the first of April, 1810, Napoleon 
married Maria Louisa, archduchess of 
Austria, on which occasion some of the 
waggish Parisians called him " n7i poisson 
d'Avril," a term which answers to our 
April fool. On the occasion of his nup- 
tials. Napoleon struck a medal, with Love 
bearing a thunderbolt for its device. 

It is customary on this day for boys ♦o 
practise jocular deceptions. When they 
succeed, they laugh at the person whom 
they think they have rendered ridiculous, 
and exclaim, " Ah ! you April fool .'" 

Thirty years ago, when buckles wers 
worn in shoes, a boy would meet a per- 
son in the street with — " Sir, if you please, 
your shoe's imlmckled,'' and the moment 
the accosted individual looked towards 
his feet, the informant would cry — " Ah ! 
you April fool !" Tiventy years ago, 
when buckles were wholly disused, the 
urchin-cry was — " Sir, your shoe's tin- 
tied ;" and if the shoe-wearer lowered his 
eyes, he was hailed, as his buckled pre- 
decessor had been, with the said — " Ah ! 
you April fool !" Now, when neither 
buckles nor strings are worn, because in 
the year 1825 no decent man " has a shoe 
to his toot,'' the waggery of the day is — 
" Sir, there's something out of your poc- 
ket." "Where?" "There!" "What?" 
" Your hand, sir — Ah ! you April fool !" 




Or else some lady is humbly bowed to, 
and gravely addressed with " Ma'am, I 
beg your pardon, but you've somethins; 
on your face !" " Indeed, my man ! 
what is it ?" " Your nose, ma'am — Ah ! 
you April fool !" 

The tricks that youngsters play off on 
the first of April are various as thei-r 
fanc^es. One, who has yet to know the 
Juimours of the day, they send to a cob- 
bler's for a petmy worth of the best " stir- 

rap oil ;" the cobbler receives the money 
and the novice receives a hearty cut ot 
two from the cobbler's strap : if he does 
not, at the same time, obtain the informa . 
tion that he is " an April fool," he is sure 
to be acquainted with it on returning to 
his companions. The like knowledge is 
also gained by an errand to some shop 
for half a pint of " pigeon's milk," or an 
inquiry at a bookseller's for the "Life 
and Adventures of Eve's Mother." 

Then, in-door young ones club their wicked wits. 

And almost frighten servants into fits — 

" Oh, John ! James ! John 1 — oh, quick ! oh ! Molly, oh 

Oh, the trap-door ! oh, Rlolly ! down below !" 

" What, what's the matter!" scream, with wild surprise 

John, James, and Molly, while the young ones' cries 

Redouble till they come ; then all the boys 

Shout " Ah 1 you April fools !" with clamorous noise ; 

And little girls enticed down stairs to see, 

Stand peeping, clap their hands, and cry " te-hee !" 

Each gibing boy escapes a different way. 

And meet again some trick, " as good as that," to play. 

Much is written concerning the custom 
of fool-making on the first of April, but 
with this result only, that it is very an- 
cient and very general.* As a better 
opportunity will occur hereafter, nothing 
will be said here respecting " fools" by 

Tlie practice of making fools on this 
day in North Britain, is usually exercised 
by sending a person from place to place 
by means of a letter, in which is wrhten 

" On the first day of April 
Hunt the gowk another mile." 

This is called " hunting the g02vk ;" 
and the bearer of the " fools' errand'' 
is called an " April goivk.'' Brand 
says, that goivk is properly a cuckoo, and 
is used here metaphorically for a fool ; 
this appears correct ; for from the Saxon 
" geac, a cuckoo," is derived geck,\ which 
means " one easily imposed on." Mal- 
volio, who had been " made ^fool" by a 
letter, purporting to have been written by 
Olivia, inquires of her 

" Why have you suffered me to be — 
— Made the most notorious geek and g^lll 
That e'er invention play'd on ?" 

Olivia affirms, that the letter was not 
written by her, and exclaims to Malvolio 

"Alas, poor/io/ / how have they baffled thee !" 

• Erand. 

t Ash. 

Geek is likewir.e dorivj.ble " from tht 
Teutfr.'iir; geck,joc^i,i."* 

The " April fool" is among the Swedes. 
Tor?er.^ one of their travellers, says, 
" Wo set sail on the first of April, and the 
v^nd made April fools of us, for we 
were forced to return before Shagen." 
On the Sunday and Monday preceding 
Lent, people are privileged at Lisbon to 
play the fool : it is thought very jocose 
to pour water on any person who passes, 
or throw powder in his face ; but to d 3 
boUi is the perfection of wit.f Tiie 
Hindoos also at their Hull festival keep 
a general holiday on the 31st of March, 
and one subject of diversion is to send 
people on errands and expeditions that 
are to end in disappointment, and raise a 
laugh at the expense of the persons sent. 
Colonel Pearce says, that " high and low 
join in it ; and," he adds, "the late Suraja 
Doulah, I am told, was very fond of 
making Iluli fools, though he was a mus- 
sulman of the highest rank. They carry 
the joke here (in India) so far, as to sena 
letters making appointments, in the nama 
of persons, who, it is known, must be 
absent from their house at the time fixed 
upon ; and the laugh is always in pro- 
portion to the trouble given. "| 

The April fool among the French is 
called " un poisson b '4vril." Their trans- 

• Janiicsnr., in Nare's Glossary. 

t Soutliey, (juotcd in Krand, as also Toreen. 

t Asiat. Ref. in Brand, froci jMaurice. 



ormalion of the term is nol well accounted 
/or, but their customs on the day are 
similartoouis. In one instance a "joke " 
was carried too far. At Paris, on tlie 
1st of April, 1817, a youno lady pocketed 
a watch in the house of a friend. She 
was arrested the same day, and taken 
before the correctional police, when 
being chartj;ed with the fact, she said it 
was an A))ril trick (nil poisson d'^vril.) 
She was asked whether the watch was in 
her custody? She denied it; but a mes- 
senger was sent to her apartment, and it 
was found on the chimney-place. Upon 
which the young lady said, she had 
made the messenger iin poisson d'Avril, 
" an April fool." The pleasantry, how- 
ever, did not end so happily, for the 
young lady was jocularly recommende I 
to remain in the house of correction till 
the 1st of April, 1818, and then to be dis- 
charged as un poisson d'Avril.* 

It must not be forgotten, that the 
practice of " making April fool " in Eng- 
land, is often indulged by persons of 
maturer years, and in a more agreeable 
way. Tliere are some verses that plea- 
santly exemplify this :t 

To a Lady, who threatened to make the 
Author an Apkil Fool. 

\Vliy strive, dear grirl, to make a fool 

Of one not wise before, 
Vet, having 'scaped from folly's school. 

Would fain go there no more? 

Ah ! if I must to sclionl again, 

Wilt thou my teacher be ? 
I vn sure no lesson will be vain 

\Vhich thou canst give to me. 

One of thy kind and gentle looks, 

Thy smiles devoid of art. 
Avail, beyond all crabbed books, 

To regulate my heart. 

Thou need'st not call some fairy elf. 

On any April-day, 
To make thy bard forget himself. 

Or wander from his way. 

One thing he never can forget, 

Whatever change may be. 
The sacred hour when first he met 

And fondly gazed on thee. 
A seed then fell into his breast ; 

Tliy spirit placed it there : 
Need 1, my Julia, tell the rest ? 

rhou seest the blossoms here. 

* Mom. Chron. June 17, 1817. 
+ Cited by Brand from JuJia, or Last Follies, 
1798, 4to. 


Annual Mercury. Mcrcuriulis annua 
Dedicated to St. Hugh. 

gpnl 2. 

St. Francis of Paula. St. Apian, a. d. 
306. 5^ Theodosia, a. d. 308. St. 
Nicctius, Abp. of Lyons, a. d. 577. 
St. E/jOa, Abbess, and her companions, 
A. D. 870, or 874. B. Constantine 
II. king of Scotland, a. n. 874. St 
Bronacha, or Bronanna, Abbess. 

St. Francis of Paula 

Was a Calabrian, and at fifteen years 
old shut Jiimself up in a cave, in a rock 
on the coast. Before twenty he was 
joined by two others, and the people 
built them three cells ; the number in- 
creased, and so arose the order of friar 
Minims, which means the least of tlie 
friars. Constant abstinence from flesh, 
and all food made of milk or eggs, was one 
of their rules. In 1479, being invited to 
Sicily, "he was received there as an 
angel from heaven, wrought miracles, 
and built several monasteries." He pro- 
phesied, held burning coals in his hand 
without being burnt, restored his nephew 
to life, cured people of the plague, received 
the host with a cord about his neck on 
Maundy Thursday, died on the 2d of 
April, 1508, aged ninety-one, and was 
buried till 1562 when-the hugonots burnt 
his bones with the wood of a crucifix.* 

Besides this, it is related, that the ele- 
ments lost their force against him; that 
he walked upon fire ; entered into a 
burning oven without harm ; and made a 
sea voyage on his own cloak instead of a 
ship, and had a companion on board with 

According to another account he was 
much worried by the devil. Once while 
he was at prayers the devil called him 
three times by his own name. Another 
time he was so possessed by the fiend, that 
he had no other way to get rid of him, 
than by stripping and beating himself 
with a hard cord, crying while he did it, 
"thus brother ass thcu must be beater,- ;" 
after which he ran into the snow and 
made seven snowballs, intending to 
swallow them if the devil )iad not taken 
his leave. Tlien a whole parcel of devils 
came one night, and gave him a grievous 

* Butler. 

i Ribadeneira. 



beating ; this was because he lodged in a 
cardinal's palace, and it occasioned him 
to shift his lodging. Afterwards, when at 
prayers, he saw upon the roof of the house 
whole companies of these infernals. He 
was a bird-fancier. A bird sat singing on a 
fig-tree by the side of his cell, he called 
it to him ; the bird ca ne upon his hand, 
and he said to it — " Sing, my sister, and 
praise the Lord," and the bird sat singing 
till he gave it liberty to go away. Going 
to Venice with his companions, and hear- 
ing birds singing in a wood, he proposed 
to sing the canonical hours, but the 
monks could not hear themselves for the 
chanters of the grove, wherefore, he 
entreated the feathered choir to be silent, 
and they remained so till he pave them 
liberty to proceed. At another place 
when he was preaching, he could not be 
heard for the swallows, which were mak- 
ing their nests ; he said to them — " Sister 
swallows, it is time for me to speak ; as 
you've said enough, be quiet," and so 
they were. It was customary with 
him when one of his friars had committed 
a fault to take off the friar's hood, and 
throw it into the fire, from whence afier 
staying there a proper time, he com- 
manded it to be restored to the friar, and 
the hood was then taken out of the fire 
without having sustained injury. More to 
the like effect, and of equal credibility, is 
related of this saint in the Golden Legend. 
1801. Lord Nelson's victory at Co- 
penhagen, when eighteen sail of the line 
were either captured or destroyed. 


White Violet. Viola alba. 
Dedicated to St. Francis of Paula. 

Good Friday is the Friday in Passion- 
week, and consequently the Friday next 
before Easter-day. 

Easter-day is always the first Sun- 
day after the first fall moon, which hap- 
pens on or next after the 21st of March; 
but if the/?<// moon happens upon a Sun- 
day, Easter-day is the Sunday following. 
Octave or Utas of a Feast. 

TheOctave or Utas of each feast is always 
the eighth day after it occurs ; for exam 
pie, the feast of St. Hillary is the ■ 13th 
of January, hence the octave of St. Hil- 
lary is the 22d of January. 

-f-4.'t' These Correctioxs would have been 
made hi the sheet itself, but a great nutnber 
of copies havi)iif bee7i printed, before the 
error was discovered, it became necessary 
to postpone the rectijication^ See Note 

*^* An error nnder the above title having 
crept into the Every-Day Book, at p. 190, 
and also extended to the list, of ^^ Moveable 
feasts," the reader will please to correct 
that list, <^c. by the following statement. 

Shrove Sunday is the Sunday next 
before Shrove Tuesday. It is also called 
Quinquagesima Sunday. 

Shrove Tuesday is always the seventh 
Tuesday before Easter-day. 

Care, or Carle Sunday is the fifth Sun- 
day in Lent, and the second Sunday before 

Maundy Thursday, also called Chare 
or Shete Thursday, is the day before 
Good Friday, 


Easter-oay IS distinguished by its 
peculiar name, through our Saxon ances- 
tors, who at this season of the year held 
a great festival, in honour of the goddess 
Eastor, probably the Astarte of the eastern 
nations. The French call this festival 
Paques, derived from the Greek pascha, 
which is also derived from the Hebrew 
pesech, meaning passover ; and whence 
we have the English word paschal, applied 
to the lamb, which formed part of the 
evening meal, the last of which our sa- 
viour partook, before his death, with his 
twelve missionaries. In Cambridgeshire 
the word pasch is still in use, and applied 
to a flower which appears at this time on 
the Gogmagog hills and its environs The 
day is of importance in a civil, as well as 
in a religious, li^ht ; for on this day de- 
pend the openings of our courts of law, 
which take place after it, and the festivals 
of the church are arranged in conformity 
to it. By the act of parliament on this 
subject, and the rule given in conformity 

* Mr. Nicolas oblicrinfrly informs wie, that 
since his " Notitia Historica " was printed, he 
has ascertained that the rule laid down for 
Shrove Tuesday, in that work, was not correct, 
and that having made some alterations in the 
event of a second edition being demanded, and 
finding I had cited tlie part containing the 
error, he thought it right to send me a copy of 
his corrections, from whence the preceding list 
is formed. There can scarcely be a doubt that a 
second edition of Mr. Nicolas's " Notitia His. 
torica " will be required speedily, because the 
.series of Tallies, Calendars, and miscellaneous 
information which it contains must be eminently 
useful, not only to the legal profession, anti. 
quaries, and every and topographic 
cal inquirer, but to general readers, many ot 
whom daily suffer inconvenience without pucfc 
s. soarce of reference. W H 



to It 111 the " Common Piayer-Book," 
which of course every body has an oppor- 
tunity of seeing, " Eastku-day is always 
the first Sunday after the Full Moon, 
which happens upon, or next after, the 
twenty-first day of March ; a)id if the 
Full Moon happen upon a Sunday, Easter- 
day is the Sunday after." 

One would think, that when such pre- 
cise directions had been given, and the 
state of the moon on any day is so clearly 
and easily ascertained, that there would 
be no difficulty in following them ; but 
experience has proved that contrary de- 
viations from the act of parliament 
liave been numerous. These have been 
pointed out at various times, but without 
any effect on the public. In the year 
1735, Henry VVi'son, of Tower-hill, styling 
himself mathematician, denounced the 
errors on this subject in a very ingenious 
work, entitled " The regulation of Easter, 
or the cause of the errours and differences 
contracted in the calculation of it, dis- 
covered and duly considered, showing — 
The frequency and consequence of chat 
errour, with the cause from whence it 
proceeds, and a method proposed for 
rectifying it, and reconciling the diff"eren- 
ces about it, and for restoring the time of 
celebrating that great solemnity in its 
primitive certainty and exactness, and 
that without the diflnculty and confusion 
which some have objected would attend 
such a regulation." 8vo. 

Within these few years an error in the 
observance of Easter took place, and 
on all the almanacs fixing an improper 
day for it-s observance, a memorial was 
presented to the lords in council and to 
the prince regent, humbly soliciting their 
interference on this subject. It was 
noticed also by Mr. Frend, in his " Even- 
ing Amusements ;" and a clergyman of 
Oxford published a pamphlet on the oc- 
casion. There was also, we believe, one 
clergyman, who, disregarding the alma- 
nac, obeyed the rubric, and read the 
services for Easter-day, and the Sundays 
depending on it, on very different days 
^rom those adopted in other churches. 
It was remarkable also, that in that very 
year, judge Garrow arrived at Glou- 
cester a short time after twelve o'clock at 
night, of the day on which the assizes were 
lo commence, and the high-sheriff" very 
properly representing his scruples, on the 
legality of then commencing the assizes, 
they were delayed till the opinion of the 
judges could be taken, and the conse- 

quence was, the issuing of a new writ. 
Thus the difference of a few minutes was 
considered fatal to the opening of a 
country court, though the courts of law 
at Westminster had been opened a few 
months before, when a much greater 
error had taken place with respect to 
Easter-day, on which, as before observed, 
the opening of those courts depends. 

To understand this subject we must 
refer back to the origin of this festival, 
instituted in honour of the resurrection of 
our saviour, which took place on the 
third day after his execution as a male- 
factor. Friday had been fixed upon as' 
the day of commemorating his death, and 
as that took place on the day of ful 
moon, the first full moon after the twenty- 
first of March was fixed upon as the re- 
gulator of the festival. The great point 
had in view was to prevent the festival of 
Easter-day from being observed on the 
day of a full moon, but as near to it as 
circumstances would admit, and in con- 
sequence there is a great difference in the 
times of observing this festival; it being 
specially provided, however, that it 
should happen after a full moon. The 
Jews observe their passover by juster 
rules; the day for the celebration of it 
taking place on different days of the 
week : but the Christians having fixed on 
Friday for the celebration of the fast on 
the death of our saviour, the Easter-day, 
on the following Sunday, was accommo- 
dated to it, and both were so fixed, that 
there could not be a full moon on the 
Easter-day, nor for some weeks after it. 

In this year, 18"25, the full moon 
occurs at twenty-three minutes past six 
in the morning of the third of April ; 
consequently, according to the actof par- 
liament, and the rubric of the church, 
Easter-day ought to be celebrated on the 
tenth, and the courts of law ought to 
open, or Easter term begin, on the tweuty- 
seventh ; but our a!manac-mai.ers 
thought good to fix Easter-day on the 
third, and consequently Easter term is 
filaced by them on the twentieth, on 
which day it is presumed th^t judicial 
proceedings will commence. 

Easter-day is observed all over Chris- 
tendom with peculiar rites. In the 
catholic church high mass is celebrated, 
the host is adored with the greatest reve- 
rence, and both Catholics and Protestants 
might be led from it, to a more particular 
attention to the circumstances attending 
its form and substance. The host, dt*- 

Vol. I. 



rived from the Latin word host'ia, mean- 
ing a victim, is a consecrated wafer, of a 
circular form, composed of flour and 
water. Both substance and form are re- 
gulated by custom of very ancient date. 
On the night before his execution, our 
.saviour took bread, and blessing it, di- 
vided it among his missionaries ; but the 
bread he took was not ordinary bread, 
but unleavened bread, such as is used by 
the Jews during the passover week in 
the present days. This bread is com- 
posed of merely flour and water, no 
leaven during the festival of their passover 
being permitted to enter the house of a 
Jew. It is a kind of biscuit of a circular 
form, and the host thus, by its form and 
substance, brings us back to the recollec- 
tion of the Catholics, and the rite cele- 
brated by our saviour. It is the represent- 
ation of the Jewish cake, or unleavened 
bread, which is to this day eaten by that 
nation during the passover week. 

The Protestants have deviated from this 
custom, and in their churches use lea- 
vened bread, without any regard to form, 
and they cut it with a knife into small 
pieces, forgetting that our saviour broke 
the bread ; but some use leavened bread, 
and, as they cannot break it, they at- 
tempt to imitate our saviour's action by 
tearing it in pieces. 

For those who wish to have a more 
comprehensive view of this subject, the 
following works are recommended : Car- 
dinal Bona on the mass ; Dean Comber 
on the liturgy ; and above all, the Hebrew 
ritual, which is translated into English, 
and to which both Catholics and Pro- 
testants are indebted for greater part <rf 
their services.* 

9[pnl 3. 

1825. Easteh Sunday. The Resurrec- 


Sts. Agape, Chionia, and Irene, Sisters, 
and their Companions, a. d. 304; St. 
Richard. St. Ulpian. St. Nicefas, 
Abbot, A. D. 824. 

St. Richard de JViche 
Was born at Wiche, near Worcester ; 
studied at Oxford, Paris, and Bologna ; 
became chancellor to the diocese of Can- 
terbury ; and was consecrated bishop of 
Chichester in 1245, against the desire of 

* This article on " Easter" is fomn;»/?;«Y//frf by 
the pentleman who favourtt) the editor with the 
.ioouunt of the " Vernal Equinox," at p. 375. 

Henry III who seized his temporalities, 
These he regained by replevin, and plead- 
ing his cause against the king's deputies 
before Innocent IV at Rome, a papal 
decree confirmed his election. Among 
his clergy he was a strict disciplinarian, 
and a friend and comforter to the poor 
Preaching a crusade, accordmg to thp 
fashion of those times, against the Sara- 
cens, he fell sick, and died in the hospital 
at Dover, called God's-house, in 125;?, in 
the fifty-sixth year of his age, and in the 
ninth of his episcopal functions. This is 
a brief character of an exemplary prelate, 
but the credulous Butler chooses to afilrm. 
that three dead persons were restored to 
life, and other miraculous cures were 
worked at his tomb. Father Porter gos- 
sips a story of a miraculous flow of unction 
at his consecration; of a dead-born child 
having been brought to life by his dead 
merits ; and of the touch of his old 
clothes having cured the diseased, with 
other performances, " which moved pope 
Boniface IV. to enrol him into the num- 
ber of the canonized saincts." Such won- 
ders have never been performed in our 
days, and hence late popes have not been 
able to make saints. If bibles could be 
suppressed, and the printing-press de- 
stroyed, miracles and canonizations would 
"come in" again. 

For particulars respecting Easter-day 
and Easter Monday, see Easter Tuesday, 
5th of April. 


Evergreen Alkanet. Anchusa sempervi- 


Dedicated to St. Agape. 

9[pnl 4. 

St. Isidore, Bishop of Seville, a. d. 63G 
St. Plato, Abbot, a. d. 813. 
Easter Monday 

Holiday at the Public Offices ; except Excise 
Custom, and Stamp. 


1774. Oliver Goldsmith died : hewa!> 
born in Ireland, November 29th, 1728. 

1802. Lloyd, lord Kenyon, lord chief- 
justice of England, died, aged 69. 


Red Crown Imperial. Fritillaria Impe- 


Dedicated to St hidore 



^prrt 5. 

.S^ Fincent Ferrer, a. d. 1419. St. Ge- 
rald, Abboc, A. D. 1095. ^7. Tigernach, 
Bishc'p in Ireland, a. d. 550. St. Becan, 

Easter Tuesday. 

Holidays at the Public Offices ; except Excise, 
Stamp, and Custom. 


1605. John Stow, the antiquary, died, 
aged 80. He was a tailor. 

1800. The rev. William Mason died, 
lie was born at Hull, inYorkshire, in 1725. 

1 804. The rev. William Gilpin, author 
of " Picturesque Tours," " Remarks on 
Forest Scenery," an " Essay on Prints," 
&c. died aged 80. 

1811. Robert Raikes, of Gloucester, 
died, aged 76. He was the originator of 
Sunday-schools, and spent his life in acts 
of kindness and compassion ; promoting 
education as a source of happiness to his 
fellow beings, and bestowing his exertions 
and bounty to benefit tlie helpless. 


Yellovy Crown Imperial. Fritillarla hnpe- 

rialis Lntea. 

Dedicated to St. fincent Ferrer. 

Dancing of the Sun. 
The day before Easter-day is in some 
parts called " Holy Saturday." On the 
evening of this day, in the middle dis- 
tricts of Ireland, great preparations are 
made for the finisiung of Lent. Many 
a fat hen and dainty piece of bacon is put 
in the pot by the cotter's wife about eight 
or nine o'clock, and woe be to the person 
who should taste it before the cock 
crows. At twelve is heard the clapping 
of hands, and the joyous laugh, mixed 
with " Shidfh or mogh or corries," i. e. 
out jvitk the Lent ; all is merriment for 
a few hotirs, when they retire, and rise 
about four o'clock to see the sun dance in 
honour of the resurrection. This ignorant 
custom is not confined to the humble 
labourer and his family, but is scrupu- 
lously observed by many highly respect- 
able and wealthy families, different mem- 
bers of whom I liave heard assert posi- 
tively that they had seen the sun dance 
on Easter morning.* 

* Comiiiuuicated to Uie £vtry-Day Booh by Mr. 

It is inquired in Dunton's " Athenian 
Oracle," " Why does the sun at his rising 
play more on Easter-day than Whit- 
Sunday .'" The question is answered 
thus : — " The matter of fact is an old, 
weak, superstitious error, and the sun 
neither plays nor works on Easter-day 
more than any oth-er. It is true, it may 
sometimes happen to shine brighter that 
morning than any other ; but, if it does, it is 
purely accidental. In some parts of Eng- 
land they call it the lamb-playing, which 
they look for, as soon as the sun rises, in 
some clear or spring water, and is nothing 
but the pretty reflection it makes from 
the water, which they may find at any 
time, if the sun rises clear, and they 
themselves early, and unprejudiced with 
fancy." The folly is kept up by the fact, 
that no one can view the sun steadily at 
any hour, and those who choose to look 
at it, or at its reflection in water, see it 
apparently move, as they would on any 
other day. Brand points out an allusion 
to this vulgar notion in an old ballad : — 

But, Dick, she dances such away ! 
No siai upon an Easier day 
Is half so fine a sight. 

/ vn'm, from the " British Apollo," a 
prcimed question to the sun himself 
1 ">.'>p. the subject, elicits a suitable au- 
frwe~ • 

Q. Old wives, Phcebns, say 
Tii3t en diy 

To the music o' th' spheres you do caper ; 
is the fact, sir. be true> 
Pray let's the cause know, 

When you have any room in your paper. 

.^. The old wives get merry 
With spic'd ale or sherry. 

On Easter, which makes them romance ; 
And whilst in a rout 
Their brains whirl about, 

They fancy we csper and dance. 

A bit of smoked glass, such as boys 
use to view an eclipse with, would put 
this matter steady to every eye but that 
of wilful self-deception, which, after all, 
superstition always chooses to see through. 

Mr. Ellis inserts, in his edition of Mr. 
Brand's " Popular Antiquities," a letter 
from Mr. Tliomas Loggan of Basinghall- 
street, from whence the following extract 
is made : Mi. Loggan says, " I was sitting 
alone last Easter Tuesday, at breakfast, 
at the Talbot in Shrewsbury, when I was 
surprised by the entrance of all the femait 
servants of the house handing in an arm- 



chair, lined with white, and decorated 
with ribbons and favours of difl'erent 
colours. I asked them what they wanted, 
their answer was, they carne to heave me ; 
it was the custom of the place on that 
morning, and they hoped 1 would take a 
seat in their chair. It was impossible 
not to comply with a request very mo- 
destly made, and to a set of nymphs in 
their best apparel, and several of them 
under twenty. I wished to see all the 
ceremony, and seated myself accordingly. 
The group then I'fted me from the 

ground, turned the chair about, and f had 
the felicity of a salute from each. I told 
them, 1 supposed there was a fee due 
upon the occasion, and was answered in 
the affirmative; and, having satisfied the 
damsels in this respect, they withdrew to 
heave others. At this time I had never 
heard of such a custom ; but, on inquiry 
I found that on Easter Monday, between 
nine and twelve, the men heave the wo- 
men in the same manner as on the Tues- 
day, between the same hours, the women 
heave the men." 


In Lancashire, Staffordshire, Warwick- 
shire,and some other parts of England there 
Drevaiis this custom of heaving or lifting 
at Easter-tide. This is performed mostly 
:n the open street, though sometimes It is 
insisted on and submitted to within 
Jie house. People form into parties 
of eight or a dozen or even more for the 
purpose, and from every one lifted or 
heaved they extort a contribution The 

late Mr. Lysons read to the Society of 
Antiquaries an extract from a roll in 
his custody, as keeper of the records in 
the tower of London, which contains a 
payment to certain ladies and maids ot 
honour for taking king Edward I. in his 
bed at Easter; from whence it has been 
presumed that he was lifted on the 
authority of that custom, which is said to 
have prevailed among all rauks thwugh- 



out the kingdom. The usage is a vulgar 
commemoration of the resurrection which 
the festival of Easter celebrates. 

Lifting or heaving differs a little in dif- 
ferent places. In some parts the person 
is laid horizontally, in others placed in a 
sitting position on the bearers' hands. 
Usually, when the lifting or heaving is 
within doois, a chair is produced, but in 
all cases the ceremony is incomplete with- 
out three distinct elevations. 

A Warwickshire correspondent, L. S., 
says, Easter Monday and Easter Tuesday 
were known by the name of heaving-day, 
because on the former day it was custom- 
ary for the men to heave and kiss the 
women, and on the latter for the women 
to retaliate upon the men. The womens' 
heaving-day was the most amusing. 
Many a time have I passed along the 
streets inhabited by tlie lower orders of 
people, and seen parties of jolly matrons 
assembled round tables on which stood a 
foaming tankard of ale. There they sat 
in all the pride of absolute sovereignty, 
and woe to the luckless man that dared 
t) invade their prerogatives! — as sure as 
hs was seen he was pursued — as sure as 
hi was pursued he was taken — and as 
s ire as he was taken he was heaved and 
kissed, and compelled to pay sixpence 
for" leave and license" to depart. 

Conducted as lifting appears to have 
\>-ien by the blooming lasses of Shrews- 
bury, and acquitted as all who are actors 
in the usage any where must be, of even 
the slightest knowledge that this practice 
is an absurd performance of the resurrec- 
tion, still it must strike the reflective 
mind as at least an absurd custom, " more 
honored i' the breach than the observance." 
It has been handed down to us from the 
bewildering ceremonies of the Romish 
church, and may easily be discounte- 
nanced into disuse by opportune and 
mild persuasion. If the children of ig- 
norant persons be properly taught, they 
will perceive in adult years the gross 
f 'Hies of their parentage, and so instruct 
their own offspring, that not a hand or 
voice shall be lifted or heard from the 
sons of labour, in support of a superstition 
that darkened and dismayed man, until 
the printing-press and the reformation 
ensured his final enlightenment and eman- 

Easter Eggs. 
Another relic of the ancient times, are 
tli« eggs which pass about at Easter week 

under the name of pask, paste, or pare 
eggs. A communication introduces the 
subject at once. 

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book. 

Sir, 19th March, 1825. 

A perusal of the Every-Day Booh in- 
duces me to communicate the particulars 
of a custom still prevalent in some parts 
of Cumberland, although not as gene- 
rally attended to as it was twenty or thirty 
years ago. I allude to the practice oi 
sending reciprocal presents of eggs, at 
Easter, to the children of families re- 
spectively, betwixt whom any intimacy 
subsists. For some weeks preceding 
Good Friday the price of eggs advances 
considerably, from the great demand 
occasioned by the custom referred to. 

The modes adopted to prepare the eggs 
for presentation are the following : there 
may be others which have escaped my re- 

The eggs being immersed in hot water 
for a few moments, the end of a common 
tallow-candle is made use of to inscribe 
the names of individuals, dates of parti- 
cular events, &c. The warmth of the 
e^% renders this a very easy process. 
Thus inscribed, the egg is placed in a 
pan of hot water, saturated with cochi- 
neal, or other dye-woods ; the part over 
which the tallow has been passed is im- 
pervious to the operation of the dye ; 
and consequently when the e^^ is re- 
moved from the pan, there appears no 
discolouration of the egg where the 
inscription has been traced, but the egg 
presents a white inscription on a coloured 
ground. The colour of course depends 
upon the taste of the person who prepared 
the egg; but usually much variety of 
colour is made use of. 

Another method of ornamenting " pace 
eggs" is, however, much neater, although 
more laborious, than that with the tallow- 
candle. The egg being dyed, it may be 
decorated in a very pretty manner, by 
means of a penknife, with which the dye 
may be scraped off, leaving the design 
white, on a coloured ground. An egg is 
frequently divided into compartments, 
which are filled up according to the taste 
and skill of the designer. Generally 
one compartment contains the name and 
(being young and unsophisticated) also 
the age of the party for whom the eg% is 
intended. In another is, perhaps, a land- 
scape ; and sometimes % cupid is found 
lurking in a third : so that these " pate 



eggs" become very viseful auxiliaries to 
the missives of St. Valentine. Nothing 
was more common in the childhood of 
the writer, than to see a number of these 
eggs preserved very carefully in the 
corner- cupboard ; each egg being the oc- 
cupant of a deep, long-stemmed ale-glass, 
through which the inscription could be 
read without removing it. Probably 
many of these eggs now remain in Cum- 
berland, which would afford as good 
evidence of dates in a court of justice, 
as a tombstone or a family-bible. 

It will be readily supposed that the 
majority of pace eggs are simply dyed ; 
or dotted with tallow to present a pie- 
bald or bird's-eye appearance. These 
are designed for the junior boys who 
have not begun to participate in the plea- 
sures of " a bended bow and quiver full 
of arrows ;'' — a flaming torch, or a heart 
and a true-lover's knot. These plainer 
specimens are seldom promoted to the 
dignity of the ale-glass or the corner- 
cupboard. Instead of being handed 
down to posterity they are hurled to 
swift destruction. In the process of 
dying they are boiled pretty hard — so as 
to prevent inconvenience if crushed ia 
the hand or the pocket. But the strength 
of the shell constitutes the chief glory of 
a pace egg, whose owner aspires only to 
the conquest of a rival youth. Holding 
his egg in his hand he challenges a com- 
panion to give blow for blow. One of 
the eggs is sure to be broken, and its 
shattered remains are the spoil of the 
conqueror : who is instantly invested with 
the title of " a cock of one, two, three," 
&c. in proportion as it may have frac- 
tured his antagonist's eggs in the conflict. 
A successful egg, in a contest with one 
which had previously gained honours, 
adds to its number the reckoning of its 
vanquished foe. An egg which is a 
"cock" of ten or a dozen, is frequently 
challenged. A modern pugilist would 
call this a set-to for the championship. 
Such on the borders of the Solway Frith 
were the youthful amui^ements of Easter 

Your very proper precaution, which 
requires the names of correspondents who 
transmit notices of local customs, is com- 
plied with by the addition of my name 
and address below. In publication I 
prefer to appear only as your constant 
leader. J. B. 

A notice below, the editor hopes will 
be read and taken by vhe reader, for 

whose advantage it is introduced, in gona 

Pasch eggs are to be found at Easter 
in different parts of the kingdom. A 
Liverpool gentleman informs the editor, 
that in that town and neighbourhood they 
are still common, and called paste eggs 
One of his children brought to him a 
paste egg at Easter, 1824, beautifully 
mottled with biown. It had been 
purposely prepared for the child by the 
servant, by being boiled hard within the 
coat of an onion, which imparted to the 
shell the admired colour. Hard boiling 
is a chief requisite in preparing the pasch 
egg. In some parts they are variously 
coloured with the juices of different herbs, 
and played with by boys, who roll them 
on the grass, or toss them up for balls. 
Their more elegant preparation is already 
described by our obliging correspondent, 
J. B. 

* Mr. J. B- 

-, a natrre of Maryport in 
Cumberland, who obliginsfly communicates 
the al)ove information respecting pasch eggs 
in that county, has ensured the adoption 
of his letter by subscribing his name and 

Communications have been received in 
great numbers from anonymous correspond- 
ents, but the information many of tliejii con- 
tain, however interesting or true, can never 
interest the readers of the Kvery-liay Buuk, 
tor this reason, that information will not 
on any account be inserted, which is not 
verified by the contributor's name and resi- 
dence : as every contributor may have his 
name inserted or not, as he pleases, so no 
one can object to satisfy the editor, tliat the 
facts communicated are from responsible 
sources. The precaution is necessary ; and it 
may be proper to add, that all contributions 
with quotations from an " old book," " an 
excellent author," " a work of authority," 
and so forth, are useless, when contributors 
forget to mention names and title-pages. 

This is the ^rst time that a notice to cor- 
respondents has appeared within the cohimns 
of the Every-Uay Book, and it is designed 
to be the last. Such intimations cannot be 
inserted without injury to the uniform ap- 
pearance of the work ; but they are printed 
on the wrappers oftiie Monthly Parts. 

Communications of local usages or cus- 
toms, or other useful and agreeable particulars, 
are earnestly and respectfully solicited; and 
extracts, or permission to extract, from scarce 
works and original manuscripts, will be highly 
esteemed. The favours of correspondents 
with real names and addresses are obviously 
the most valuable, and will receive markec 
regard. W. Honu. 

45, L'tdgate-hill-, 
Slsl March, \ti'ii>. 



The terms pace, paste, or pusch, are 
deiived from pusc/uil, which is a name 
given to Easter from its being the paschal 
season. Four hundred eggs were bought 
for eighteen-pence in the time of Edward 
I., as appears by a royal roll in the 
tower ; from whence it also appears they 
were purchased foi the purpose of being 
boiled and stained, or covered with leaf 
gold, and afterwards distributed to the 
royal household at Easter. They were 
formerly consecrated, and the ritual of 
pope Paul V. for the use of England, 
Scotland, and Ireland, contains the form 
of consecration.* On Easter eve and 
Easter day, the heads of families .sent to 
the church large chargers, filled with the 
hard boiled eggs, and there the " creature 
of eggs" became sacred by virtue of holy 
water, crossing, and so on. 

Ball. Bacon. Tansy Puddings. 
Eating of tan.ti/ pudding is another cus- 
tom at Easter derived from the Romish 
church. Tansy symbolized the bitter herbs 
used by the Jews at their paschal ; but 
that the people might show a proper ab- 
horrence of Jews, they ate from a gammon 
of bacon at Easter, as many still do in 
several country places, at this season, 
without knowing from whence this prac- 
tice is derived. Then we have Easter 
ball-play, another ecclesiastical device, the 
meaning of which cannot be quite so 
clearly traced ; but it is certain that the 
Romish clergy abroad played at ball in 
the church, as part of the service ; and we 
find an archbishop joining in the sport. 
*' A ball, not of size to be grasped by one 
hand only, being given out at Easter, the 
dean and his representatives began an 
antiphone, suited to Easter-day ; theii 
takmg the ball in his left hand, he com- 
menced a dance to the tune of the anti- 
phone, the others dancing round hand in 
hand. At intervals, the ball was ban- 
died or passed to each of the choristers. 
The organ played according to the dance 
and sport. The dancing and antiphone 
being concluded, the choir went to take 
refreshment. It was the privilege of the 
lord, or his locum tenens, to throw the 
ball; even the archbishop did it."t 
Whether the dignified clergy had this 
amusement in t'ne English churches is 
not authenticated ; but it seems that 
" boys used to claim hard eggs, or small 
money, at Easter, in exchange for the 

• Brand. 

t t'osbroke's Brit. Monach, irom Dii Cange, 

ball-play before mentioned."* Brand 
cites the mention of a lay amusement at 
this season, wherein both tansy and ball- 
play IS refeired to. 


At stool-ball, Lucia, let us play. 

For sugar, cakes, or wine. 
Or for a tansy let us pay, 

The loss be thine or mine. 
If thou, my dear, a wmner be 

At trundling of the ball, 
The wager thou shall have, and me 

And my misfortunes all. 


Also, from " Poor Robin's Almanack" fbi 
1677, this Easter verse, denoting the 
sport at that season : 

Young men and maids, 

Now very brisk, 
At barley-break and 

Stool-ball frisk. 

A ball custom now prevails annually at 
Bury St. Edmund's, Suffolk. On Shrove 
Tuesday, Easter Monday, and the Whit- 
suntide festivals, twelve old women side 
off for a game at trap-and-ball, which is 
kept up with the greatest spirit and vigour 
until sunset. One old lady, named Gill 
upwards of sixty years of age, has been 
celebrated as the " mistress of the sport" 
for a number of years past ; and it affords 
much of the good old humour to flow 
round, whilst the merr) combatants dex- 
terously hurl the giddy ball to and fro. 
Afterwards they retire to their homes, 

" Voice, fiddle, or flute. 

No longer is mute," 

and close the day .vith apportioned mirth 
and merriment.-}- 

Corporations formerly went forth to 
play at ball g.t Easter. Both then and 
at Whitsuntide, the mayor, aldermen, 
and sheriff of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, with 
a great number of the burgesses, went 
yearly to the Forth, or little mall of the 
town, with the mace, sword, and cap of 
maintenance, carried before ihem, and 
patronised the playing at hand-ball, 
dancing, and other amusements, and 
sometimes joined in the ball-play, and at 
others joined hands with the ladies. 

There is a Cheshire proverb, " When 
the daughter is stolen, shut the Pepper- 
gate," "This is founded on the fact that the 
mayoi of Chester had his daughter stolen 

* Fosbroke's Brit. Monach. from Du Cange 
t Cuuiuiuiiicated to tlie fitery-Duv Bauh by S. E. 



as she was playing at ball with other 
maidens in Pepper-street; the young man 
who carried her off, came through the 
Pepper-gate, and the mayor wisely or- 
dered the gate to be shut up :* agreeable 
to the old saying, and present custom 
agreeable thereto, " When the steed's 
stolen, shut the stable-door." Hereafter 
it will be seen that persons quite as dig- 
nified and magisterial as mayors and 
aldermen, could compass a holiday's sport 
and a merry-go-round, as well as their 
more humble fellow subjects. 

Clipping the Church at Easter. 

L. S , a Warwickshire corresperxient, 
communicates this Easter custom to the 
Evert/- Dai/ Book : 

" When I was a child, as sure as Easter 
Monday came, I was taken ' to see the 
children clip the churches.^ This ceremony 
was performed, amid crowds of people 
and shouts of joy, by the children of the 
different charity-schools, who at a certain 
hour flocked tog,ether for the purpose. 
The first comers placed themselves hand 
in hand with their backs against the 
church, and were joined by their compa- 
nions, who gradually increased in num- 
ber, till at last the chain was of sufficient 
length completely to surround the sacred 
edifice. As soon as the hand of the last 
of the train had grasped that of the first, 
the party broke up, and walked in pro- 
cession to the other church, (for in those 
days Birmingham boasted but of two,) 
where the ceremony was repeated." 

Old Easter Customs in Church. 

In the celebration of this festival, the 
Romish church amused our forefathers by 
theatrical representations, and extraordi- 
nary dramatic worship, with appropriate 
scenery, machinery, dresses, and decora 
tions. The exhibitions at Durham appear 
to have been conducted with great effect. 
In that cathedral, over our lady of Bolton's 
altar, there was a marvellous, lively, and 
beautiful image of the picture of our lady, 
called the lady of Bolton, which picture 
was made to open with gitnmes, (or linked 
fastenings,) from the breast downward : 
and within the said image was wrought 
and pictured the image of our saviour 
marvellously finely gilt, holding up his 
hands, and betwixt his hands was a large 
fair crucifix of Christ, all of gold ; the 
which crucifix was ordained to be taken 

* Diaka'b Shaksptare, from Fuller's Worthies. 

forth every Good Friday, and every man 
did creep unto it that was in the church 
at that time ; and afterwards it was hung 
up again within the said image. Every 
principal day the said image of our !adj 
of Bolton, was opened, that every man 
might see pictured within her, the Father, 
the Son, and the Holy Ghoit, most cu- 
riously and finely gilt; and both the sides 
within her were very finely varnished with 
green varnish, and fiowers of gold, which 
was a goodly sight for all the beholders 
thereof. On Good Friday, there was 
marvellous solemn service, in which ser- 
vice time, after the Passionv/as sung, two 
of the ancient monks took a goodly large 
crucifix, all of gold, of the picture 
of our saviour Christ nailed upon the 
cross, laying it upon a velvet cushion, 
having St. Cuthbert's arms upon it, all 
embroidered with gold, bringing it be- 
twixt them upon the cushion to the lowest 
steps in the choir, and there betwixt them 
did hold the said picture of our saviour, 
sitting on either side of it. And then 
one of the said monks did rise, and went 
a pretty space from it, and setting himself 
upon his knees with his shoes put off, 
very reverently he crept upon his knees 
unto the said cross, and most reverently 
did kiss it ; and after him the other monk 
did so likewise; and then they sate down 
on e:*her side of the said cross, holding 
it betwixt them. Afterward, the prior 
came forth of his stall, and did sit him 
down upon his knees with his shoes off 
in like sort, and did creep also unto the 
said cross, and all the monks after him 
did creep one after another in the same 
manner and order ; in the mean time, the 
whole choir singing a hymn. The service 
being ended, the said two monks carried 
the cross to the sepulchre with great re- 

The sepulchre was erected in the 
church near the altar, to represent the 
tomb wherein the body of Christ was 
laid for burial. At this tomb there 
was a grand performance on Easter-day. 
In some churches it was ordained, that 
Mary Magdalen, Mary of Bethany, and 
Mary of Nairn, should be represented by 
three deacons clothed in dalmaticks and 
amesses, with their heads in the manner 
of women, and holding a vase in their 
hands. These performers came through 
the middle of the choir, and hastening 

* Hone's Ancient Mysteries described, froia 
Davies's Kite:i. \.r 



towLirds the sepulchre, with downcast 
tooks, said together this verse, " Who 
will remove the stone for us ?" Upon 
this a boy, clothed like an angel, in albs, 
and holding a wheat ear in his hand, be- 
fore the sepulchre, said, " Whom do you 
seek in the sepulchre ?" The Maries an- 
swered, " Jesus of Nazareth who was 
crucitied." The boy-angel answered, 
" lie is not here, but is risen ;" and 
pointed to the place with his finger. The 
boy-angel departed very quickly, and two 
priests in tunics, sitting without the 
sepulchre, said, " Woman, whom do ye 
mourn for? Whom do ye seek?" The 
middle one of the women said, " Sir, if 
you have taken him away, say so " The 
priest, showing the cross, said, " They 
have taken away the Lord." The two 
sitting priests said, " Whom do ye seek, 
women '." The Maries, kissing the place, 
afterwards went from the sepulchre. In 
the mean time a priest, in the character 
of Christ, in an alb, with a stole, holding 
a cross, met them on the left horn of the 
altar, and said, " Mary !" Upon hearing 
this, the mock Mary threw herself at his 
feet, and, with a loud voice, cried Cabboin. 
The priest representing Christ replied, 
nodding, " Noli me tangere," touch me 
not. This being finished, he again ap- 
peared at the right horn of the altar, and 
said to them as they passed before the 
altar, " Hail ! do not fear." This being 
finished, he concealed himself; and the 
women-priests, as though joyful at hear- 
ing this, bowed to the altar, and turning 
to the choir, sung " Alleluia, the Lord is 
risen." This was the signal for the bishop 
or priest before the altar, with the censer, 
to begin and sing aloud, Te Deum* 

The making of the sepulchre was a 
practice founded upon ancient tradition, 
that the second coming of Christ would 
be on Easter- eve; and sepulchre-making, 
and watching it, remained in England 
•ill the reformation. Its ceremonies va- 
•ied in different places. In the abbey 
church of Durham it was part of the ser- 
vice upnn Easter-day, betwixt three and 
four o'clock in the morning, for two of 
the eldest monks of the quire to come to 
the sepulchre, set up upon Good Friday 
after the Passion, which being covered 
with red velvet, and embroidered with 
gold, these monks, with a pair of silver 
censers, censed the sepulchre on their 
knees. Tlien both rising, went to the 

• Fnsbrokc'd Brit. Monadi. from Du Gauge. 

sepulchre, out of which they took a mar- 
vellous beautiful imatfe of the resurrec- 
tion, with a cross in the hand of the image 
of Christ, in the breast whereof was in- 
closed, in bright crystal, the host, so as 
to be conspicuous to the beholders. Then, 
after the elevation of the said picture, it 
was carried by the said two monks, upon 
a velvet embroidered cushion, the monks 
singing the anthem of Christus resnrgens. 
They then brought it to the high altar, 
setting it on the midst thereof, and the 
two monks kneeling before the altar, 
censed it all the time that the rest of tlie 
quire were singing the anthem, which 
being ended, the two monks took up the 
cushion and picture from the altar, sup- 
porting it betwixt them, and proceeded 
in procession from the high altar to the 
south quire door, where there were four 
ar.iiient gentlemen belonging to the quire, 
appointed to attend their coming, holding 
up a rich canopy of purple velvet, tas- 
selled round about with Ted silk and gold 
fringe ; and then the canopy was borne 
by these " ancient gentlemen," over the 
said images with the host carried by the 
two monks round about the church, the 
whole quire following, with torches and 
great store of other lights; all singing, 
rejoicing, and praying, till they came to 
the high altar again ; upon which they 
placed the said image, there to remain 
till Ascension-day, vi\\Qn another ceremony 
was used. 

In Brand's " Antiquities," and other 
works, there are many items of expenses 
from the accounts of different church- 
books for making the sepulchre for this 
Easter ceremony. The old Register Book 
of the brethren of the Holy Trinity of St. 
Botolph without Aldersgate, now in the 
possession of the editor of the Every-Day 
Book, contains the following entries con- 
cerning the sepulchre in that church : — 
" Item, to the wexchaundeler, for makyng 
of the Sepulcre light iii times, and of 
other dyvers lights that longyn to the 
trynite, in dyvers places in the chirche, 
Ivii*. 10''." In An. 17 Henry VI. there 
is another " Item, for x'ii tapers unto the 
lyght about the Sepulcre, agenst the 
ffestp of Estern, weying Ixxviii lb. of the 
wich was wasted xxii lb " &c. In Ann, 
21 & 22 K. Henry VI. the fraternity paid 
for wax and for lighting of the sepulchre 
"both yers, xx*. viii". ' and they gathered 
in those years for their sepulchre light, 
xlv*. ix"*. This gathering was from the 
people who were present at thf repre- 



sentation ; and when the value of money 
at that time is considered, and also that 
on the same day every church in London 
had a sepulchre, each more or less at- 
tractive, the sum v/ill not be regarded as 

The only theatres for the people were 
churches, and the monks were actors; 
accordingly, at Easter, plays were fre- 
quently got up for popular amusement. 
Brand cites from the churchwardens' ac- 
counts of Reading, set forth in Coate's 
history of that town, several items of 
different sums paid for nails for the se- 
pulchre ; " for rosyn to the Resurrection 
play ;" for setting up off poles for the 
scaffold whereon the plays were perform- 
ed ; for making "a Judas ;" for the writing 
of the plays themselves ; and for other 
expenses attending the '• getting up" of 
the representations Though the subjects 
exhibited were connected wilh the inci- 
dents commemorated by the festival, yet 
the most splendid shows must have been 
in those churches which performed the 
resurrection at the sepulchre wilh a full 
dramatis persona; of monKs, in dresses 
according to the characters they assumed. 

Mr. Fosbroke gives the " properties" 
of the sepulchre show belonging to St. 
Mary Redcliff's church at Bristol, from 
an original MS. in his possession for- 
merly belonging to Chatterton, viz " Me- 
morandum : — That master Cannings hath 
delivered, the 4th day of July, in the vear 
of our Lord 1470, to master Nicholas 
Pelles, vicar of Redclift, Moses Conterin, 
Philip Berthelmew, and John Brown, 
procurators of Redclift beforesaid, a new 
Sepulchre, well guilt with fine gold, and 
a civer thereto ; an image of God Al- 
mighty rising out of the same Sepulchre, 
with all the ordinance that longeth 
thereto ; that rs to say, a lath made of 
timber and iron work thereto. Item, 
hereto longeth Heven, made of timber 
and stained cloths. Item, Hell made of 
timber and iron work thereto, with Devils 
the number of thirteen. Item, four knights 
armed, keeping the Sepulchre, with their 
weapons in their hands ; that is to say, 
two spears, two axes, with two shields. 
Item, four pair of Angel's wings, for four 
Angels, made of timber,and well-painted. 
Item, the Fadre, the crown and visage, 
the ball with a cross uj)on it, well gilt 
with fine gold. Item, the Holy Ghost 
coming out of Ileven into the Sepulchre. 
Item, longeth to the four Angels, four 
Perukes.''' The lights at the sepulchre 

shows, and at Easter, were of themselves 
a most attractive part cf the Easter spec- 
tacle. The paschal or great Easter taper at 
Westminster Abbey was three hundred 
pounds' weight. Sometimes a large wax 
light called a serpent was used ; its name 
was derived from its spiral form, it being 
wound round a rod. To light it, fire was 
struck from a flint consecrated by the 
abbot. The paschal in Durham cathedral 
was square wax, and reached to within 
a man's length of the roof, from whence 
this waxen enormity was lighted by " a 
fine convenience." I'rom this superior 
ligiit all others were taken. Every taper 
in the church was purposely extinguished 
in order that this might supply a fresh 
stock of consecrated light, till at the same 
season in the next year a similar parent 
to,rch was prepared.* 


Easter Monday and Tuesday, and 
Greenwich fair, are renowned as " holi- 
days" lliroughout most manufactories and 
trades conducted in the metropolis. On 
Monday, Greenwich fair commences 
Tlie chief attraction to this spot is the 
park, wherein stands the Royal Observa- 
tory on a hill, adown which it is the 
delight of boys and girls to pull each 
other till they are wearied. Frequently 
of late this place has been a scene of rude 
disorder. But it is still visited by thou- 
sands and tens of thousands from London 
and the vicinity ; the lowest join in the 
hill sports; others regale in the public- 
houses ; and many are mere spectators, 
of what may be called the humours ot 
the day. 

On Easter Monday, at the very dawn 
of day, the avenues from all parts towards 
Greenwich give sign of the first London 
festival in the year. Working men and 
their wives ; 'prentices and their sweet- 
hearts ; blackguards and bullies ; make 
their way to this fair. Pickpockets and 
their female companions go later. Tlie 
greater part of the sojourners are on 
foot, but the vehicles for conveyance are 
innumerable. The regular and irregular 
stages are, of course, full inside and out- 
side. Hackney-coaches are equally well 
filled ; gigs carry three, not including 
the driver ; and there are countless pri- 
vate chaise-carts, public pony-chaises 
and open accommodations. Interminglea 
with these, town-carts, usually employed 



in carrying goods, are now fitted tip, with 
boards for seats ; hereon are seated men, 
women, and children, till the complement 
IS complete, which is seldom deemed the 
case till the horses are overloaded. Now 
and then passes, like " some huge admi- 
'al,"a full-sized coal-waggon, laden with 
coal-heavers and theii wives, and sha- 
dowed by spreading boughs from every 
tree that spreads a bough ; these solace 
themselves with draughts of beer from a. 
barrel aboard, and derive amusement from 
criticising walkers, and passengers in 
vehicles passing their own, which is of 
unsurpassing size. Tiie six-mile journey 
of one of these machines is sometimes 
prolonged from "dewy morn" till noon. 
It stops to let its occupants see all that is 
to be seen on its passage ; such as what 
are called the " Gooseberry fairs," by 
the wayside, whereat heats are run upon 
half-killed horses, or spare and patient 
donkeys. Here are the bewitching sounds 
to many a boy's ears of" A halfpenny ride 
O '." "A halfpenny ride 01"; upon 
that sum " first had and obtained,'' the 
immediately bestrided urchin has full 
right to " work and labour" the bit of life 
he bestraddles, for the full space or dis- 
tance of fifty yards, there and back ; the 
returning fifty being done within half 
time of the first. Then there is " pricking 
in the belt," an old exposed and still 
practised fraud. Besides this, there are 
numberless invitations to take " a shy for 
a halfpenny," at a " bacca box, full o' 
ha'pence," standing on a stick stuck up- 
right in the earth at a reasonable distance 
for experienced throwers to hit, and 
therefore win, but which is a mine of 
wealth to the costermonger proprietor, 
from the number of unskilled adventurers. 

Greenwich fair, of itself, is nothing; the 
congregated throngs are every thing, 
and fill every plase. The hill of tlie 
Observatory, and two or three other emi- 
nences in the park, are the chief resort of 
the less experienced and the vicious. But 
these soon tire, and group after group 
succeeds till evening. Before then the 
more prudent visitors have retired to 
seme of the numerous houses in the vici- 
nage of the park, whereon is written, 
" Boiling water here," or "Tea and 
Coffee," and where they take such re- 
freshment as these places and their own 
bundles afford, preparatory to their toil 
home after their pleasure. 

At nightfall, " Life in London," as 
it is called, is found at Gteenfrich. 

Every room in every pubhc-nouse is fid.y 
oecupied by drinkers, smokers, singers 
and dancers, and the " balls " are kept 
up during the greater part of the night. 
The way to town is now an indescr'ba- 
ble scene. The vehicles congregated 
by the visitors to the fair throughout 
the day resume theii motion, and the 
living reflux on the road is dense to 
uneasiness. Of all sights the most 
miserable is that of the poor broken-down 
horse, who having been urged three times 
to and from Greenwich with a load thi- 
ther of pleasure-seekers at sixpence per 
head, is now unable to return, for the 
fourth time, with a full load back, though 
whipped and lifted, and lifted and whip- 
ped, by a reasoning driver, who declares 
" the hoss did it last fair, and why shouldn't 
he do it again." The open windows of 
every house for refreshment on the road, 
and clouds of tobacco-smoke therefrom, 
declare the full stowage of each apart- 
ment, while jinglings of the bells, and calls 
" louder and louder yet," speak wants 
and wishes to waiters, who disobey the 
instructions of the constituent bodies that 
sent them to the bar. Now from the way- 
side booths fly out corks that let forth 
"pop" and "ginger-beer," and little 
party-coloured lamps give something 
of a joyous air to appearances that fa- 
tigue and disgust. Overwearied children 
cry before they have walked to the half- 
way house; women with infants in their 
arms pull along their tipsey well-beloveds, 
others endeavour to wrangle or drag them 
out of drinking rooms, and, until long after 
midnight, the Greenwich road does not 
cease to disgorge incongruities only to be 
rivalled by the figures and exhibitions in 
Dutch and Flemish prints. 

While this turmoil, commonly called 
pleasure-taking, is going on, there is 
another order of persons to whom Easter 
afibrds real recreation. Not less inclined 
to unbend than the frequenters of Green- 
wich, they seek and find a mode o* 
spending the holiday-time more rationally 
more economically, and more advantage- 
ously to themselves and their families 
With their partners and offspring they 
ride to some of the many pleasant vil- 
lages beyond the suburbs of London, out 
of the reach of ine harm and strife inci- 
dent to mixing with noisy crowds. Here 
the contented groups are joined by rcia 



lions or friends, who have appointed to ed, each joins in merrj' convers^rition, or 

meet them, in the quiet lanes or sunny some one suspected of a singing lace 

fields of these delightful retreats. When justifies the suspicion, and " the jocunq 

requisite, they recruit from well-stored song goes round," till, the fathers being 

junket baskets, carried in turn; and after reminded by the mothers, more than once 

calmly passing several hours in walking possibly, that " it's getting late," they rise 

and sauntering through the open balmy refreshed and happy, and go home. Sucli 

air of a spring-dny, they sometimes close an assembly is composed of honest and 

it by making a good comfortable tea- industrious individuals, whose feelings 

party at a respectable house on their way and expressions are somewhat, perhaps, 

t(« town. Then a cheerful glass is order- represented below. 



We're independent men, with wives, and sweethearts, by our side. 
We've hearts at rest, with health we're bless'd, and, being Easter tide, 
We make our spring-time holiday, and take a bit of pleasure, 
And gay as May, drive care away, and give to mirth our leisure. 

It's for our good, that thus, my boys, we pass the hours that stray. 
We'll have our frisk, without the risk of squabble or a fray ; 
Let each enjoy his pastime so, that, without fear or sorrow, 
When all his fun is cut and run, he may enjoy to-morrow. 

To-morrow may we happier be for happiness to-day, 
rhat child or man, no mortal can, or shall, have it to say, 
That we have lost both cash and time, and been of sense bereft, 
For what we've spent we don't relent, we've time and money left. 

And we will husband both, my boys, and husband too our wives ; 

May sweethearts bold, before they're old, be happy for their lives ; 

For good girls make good wives, my boys, and good wives make men belter, 

When men are just, and scorning trust, each man is no man's debtor. 

Then at this welcome season, boys, let's welcome thus each other. 
Each kind to each, shake hands with each, each be to each a brother; 
Nej;t Easter holiday may each again see flowers springing, 
And hear birds sing, and sing himself, while merry bells are ringir^g 



The clear open weather daring the 
Easter holidays in 1 825, drew forth a 
greater number of London holiday keep- 
er-; tlian the same season of many pre- 
reding years. They were enabled to in- 
dulge by the full employment in most bran- 
ches of trade and manufacture ; and if the 
period was spent not less merrily, it was 
enjoyed more rationally and with less ex- 
cess than before was customary. Green- 
wich, though crowded, was not so abun- 
dant of boisterous rudeness. " it is al- 
most the only one of the popular amuse- 
ments that remains: Stepney, Hamp- 
stead, Westend, and Peckham fairs have 
oeen crushed by the police, that ' stern, 
rugged nurse' of national morality; and 
although Greenwich fair continues, it is 
any thing but what it used to be. Green- 
wich, however, will always have a charm : 
the fine park remains — trees, glades, turf, 
and the view from the observatory, one of 
tlie noblest in the world — before you the 
towers of these palaces built for a mo- 
larch's residence, now ennobled into a 
refuge from life's storms for the gallant 
defenders of their country, after their long 
and toilsome pilgrimage — then the noble 
river ; and in the distance, amidst the 
din and smoke, appears the ' mighty 
heart' of this mighty empire; these are 
views worth purchasing at the expense of 
oeing obliged to visit Greenwich fair in 
this day of its decline. ' Punch' and 
his ' better half seemed to be the pre- 
siding deities in the fair, so little of mer- 
riment was there to be found. In the 
park, however, the scene was different ; 
it was nearly filled with persons of all 
ages : the young came there for amuse- 
ment, to see and be seen — the old to pay 
their customary annual visit. On the 
bills was the usual array of telescopes ; 
there were also many races, and many 
sovereigns in the course of the day chang- 
ed hands on the event of them ; but one 
race in particular deserves remark, not 
that there was any thing in the character, 
fippearance, or speed of the competitors, 
to distinguish them from the herd of 
others ; the circumstances in it that afford- 
td amusement was the dishonesty of the 
stakeholder, who, as the parties had just 
reached the goal, scampered off with the 
stakes, amidst the shouts of the by stan- 
ders, and the ill-concealed chagrin of the 
two gentlemen who had foolishly com- 
mitted their money to the hands of a 

• Britith Tiess 

According to annual custom on Eas- 
ter Monday, the minor theatres opened 
on that day for the season, and were 
thronued, as usual, by spectators of no- 
velties,which the Amphitheatre, the Surrey 
theatre, Sadler's-wells, and other places 
of dramatic entertainment, constantly get 
up for the holiday-folks. The scene Oi 
attraction was much extended, by amuse- 
ments long before announced at distant 
suburbs. At half-past five on Monday 
afternoon, Mr. Green accompanied by 
one of his brothers, ascended in a balloon 
from the Eagle Tavern, the site of the 
still remembered " Shepherd and Shep- 
herdess," in the City-road. " The atmo- 
sphere being extremely calm, and the sun 
shining brightly, the machine, after it had 
ascended to a moderate height, seemed to 
hang over the city for nearly half an hour, 
presenting a beautiful appearance, as its 
sides glistened with the beams of that orb, 
towards which it appeared to be convey- 
ing two of the inhab'tants of a diflerent 
planet." It descended near Kwell in 
Surrey. At a distance of ten miles from 
this spot, Mr. Graham, another aerial na- 
vigator, let off another balloon from the 
Star and Garter Tavern, near Kew-bridge. 
" During the preparations, the gardens 
began to fill with a motley company of 
farmers' families, and tradesmen from the 
neighbourhood, together with a large por- 
tion of city folks, and a small sprinkle of 
some young people of a better dressed 
order. The fineness of the day gave a 
peculiar interest to the scene, which 
throughout was of a very lively descrip- 
tion. Parties of ladies, sweeping the 
' green sward,' their gay dresses, laugh- 
ing eyes, and the cloudless sky, made 
every thing look gay. Outside, it was 
a multitude, as far as the eye could see 
on one side. The place had the appear- 
ance of a fair, booths and stalls for re- 
freshments being spread out, as upon 
these recreative occasions. Carts, drays, 
coaches, and every thing which could 
enable persons the better to overlook the 
gardens, were put into eager requisition, 
and every foot of resting-room upon 
Kew-bridge had found an anxious and 
curious occupant. In the mean time, 
fresh arrivals were taking place from all 
directions, but the clouds of dust which 
marked the line of the London-road, in 
particular, denoted at once the eagernesj 
and numbers of the new comers. A 
glimpse in that direction showed the pe- 
destrians, half roasted with the sun, and 



half sufibcated with the dust, still keeping 
on their way towards the flivoured spot. 
About five o'clock, Mr. Graham having 
seated himself in the ca» of his vehicle, 
gave the signal for committing the ma- 
chine to its fate. She swung in the wind 
for a moment, but suddenly righting, shot 
up in a directly perpendicular course, 
amidst the stunning shout of the assem- 
bled multitude, Mr. Graham waving the 
flags and responding to their cheers. 
Nothing could be more beautiful than the 
appearance of the balloon at the distance 
of about a mile from the earth, for from 
reflecting back the rays of the sun, it ap- 
peared a solid body of gold suspended in 
the air. It continued in sight nearly an 
hour and a half; and the crowd, wliose 
curiosity had brought them together, had 
not entirely dispersed from the gardens 
before seven o'clock. On the way home 
they were gratified with the sight of Mr. 
Green's balloon, which was seen dis- 
tinctly for a considerable time along the 
Ilammersmith-road. The shadows of 
evening were lengthening, and 

midst falling dew. 

While glow the Heavens with the last steps 
of day. 
Far through their rosy depths it did pursue 
Its solitary way."* 


fn London, on Easter Monday and 
Tuesday, the Spital Sermons are preach- 
ed. "On Easter Monday, the boys of 
Christ's Hospital walk in procession, ac- 
companied by the masters and steward, 
to the Royal Exchange, from whence they 
proceed to the Mansion-house, where they 
are joined by the lord mayor, the lady 
mayoress, the sheriffs, aldermen, recor- 
der, chamberlain, town clerk, and other 
city officers, with their ladies. From 
thence the cavalcade proceeds to Christ 
cliurch, where the Spital Sermon is 
preached, always by one of the bishops, 
and an anthem sung by the children. His 
lordship afterwards returns to the Man- 
sion-house, where a grand civic entertain- 
ment is prepared, which is followed by 
an elegant ball in the evening. 

OnEaster Tuesday, the boys again walk 
in procession to the Mansion-house, but, 
instead of the masters, they are accom- 
panied by the matron and nurses. On 
Monday, they walk in the order of the 
schools, each master being at the head of 

* Muruiiig Herald. 

the school over which he preside? ; and 
the boys in the mathematical school carry 
their various instruments. On Tuesday, 
they walk in the order of the different 
wards, the nurses walking at the head ot 
the boys under her immediate care. On 
their arrival at the Mansion-house, they 
liave the honour of being presented indi- 
vidually to the lord mayor, who gives to 
each boy a new sixpence, a glass of wine, 
and two buns. His lordship afterwards 
accompanies them to Christ church, 
where the service is the same as on Mon- 
day. The sermon is on Tuesday usually 
preached by his lordship's chaplain."* 
The most celebrated Spital Sermon of our 
times, was that preached by the late Dr. 
Samuel Parr, upon Easter Tuesday, 1800, 
against " the eager desire of paradox ; the 
habit of contemplating a favourite topic in 
one distinct and vivid point of view, while 
it is disregarded under all others; a fond- 
ness for simplicity on sul)jects too com- 
plicated in their inward structure on their 
external relations, to be reduced to any 
single and uniform principle ;" and against 
certain speculations on " the motives by 
which we are impelled to do good to our 
fellow creatures, and adjusting the extent 
to which we arc capable of doing it." This 
sermon induced great controversy, and 
much misrepresentation. Few of those 
>vho condemned it, read it ; and many justi- 
fied their ignorance of what they detracted, 
by pretending they could not waste theii 
time upon a volume of theology. This 
excuse was in reference to its having been 
printed in quarto, though the sermon it- 
self consists of only about four and twenty 
pages. The notes are illustrations of a 
discourse more highly intellectual than 
most of those who live have heard oi 

* Wilson's History of Christ's Hospital. 

t .Archdeacon Biillcr had been selected by Dr. 
Parr to pronounce tlie last appointed-words over his 
remains, and he justified the seU-ctiou. Dr. Butler's 
sermon at tlie funeral o-f Dr. Parr, has the high merit 
of presenting a clear outline of this grea^ man's 
character, and from its pages these passages are 
culled and thrown together. " His learning was the 
most profound, and the most varied and extensive, of 
any man of his age. He has left a chasm in the 
literature of his country, which none of us shall 
ever see filled up. As a classical scholar he was su- 
prenie — deeply versed in history, especially that of 
his own country ; in metaphysics and moral philo- 
sophy not to be excelled ; in theology he had read 
more extensively and thought more deeply, than 
most of those who claim the Iwghest literary fame 
in that department. He was well read in contioversy, 
though he loved not controversialists; fur his bene- 
volent and tolerating spirit was shocked by any thing 
like rancour among men who believe a gospel oT 
love, and worship a God of love, and yet can let 
loose the malignant and vindictive passions, in their 
religious disputes, against each other. In pc.itica 



The Spital Sennon derives its name 
from tlie priory and hospital of " our 
I)lessed Lady, St. Mary Spital," situated 
on the east side of liisliopsgate-street, 
Jvith fields in the rear, which now form 
the suburb, called Spitalfields. This 
Hospital founded in 1'97, had a large 
churchyard with a pulpit cross, from 
whence it was an ancient custom on Eas- 
ter Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, 
for sermons to be preached on the Resur- 
rection before the lord mayor, alder- 
men, sheriffs, and others who sat in a 
house of two stories for that purpose ; 
the bishop of I ondon and other prelates 
being above them. In 1594, the pulpit 
was taken down and a new one set up, 
and a large house for tiie governors and 
children of Christ's Hospital to sit in.* 
In April 1559, queen Elizabeth came in 
great state from St. Mary Spital, attended 
by a thousand men in harness, with shirts 
of mail and croslets, and morris pikes, 
and ten great pieces carried through Lon- 
don unto the court, with drums, flutes, and 
trumpets sounding, and two morris dan- 
cers, and two white bears in a cart.f On 
Easter Monday, 1617, king James I. 
having gone to Scotland, the archbishop 
of Canterbury, the lord keeper Bacon, the 
bishop of London, and certain other lords 
of the court and privy counsellors attend- 
ed the Spital Sermon, with sir John 
Lemman, the lord mayor, and alder- 
men ; and afterwards rode home and dined 
with the lord mayor at his house near 
Billingsgate.J The hospital itself was 
dissolved under Henry VIII. ; the pulpit 
was broken down during the troubles of 
Charles I. ; and after the restoration, the 
sermons denominated Spital Sermons 
were preached at St. Bride's church, 
Fleet-street, on the three usual days. A 

his ardent \ove of fieedom, his hatred of oppression, 
and his invincible spirit, joined to tlie moit disinier- 
ested and incorruptible integrity, and the most reso- 
lute independence, even in llie days of poverty and 
privation, made him always a prominent and con- 
spicuous 1 liaracter. Caution he despised, it was not 
apart of liis noble and fearless naiure. What he 
thought greatly, he ntttred manfully ; and such a 
mighty master of language wlicn speaking or 
writing on civil and relitious liberty, carried away 
his hearers wiili the same resistless torrent of elo- 
quence by which himself was swept along." Such 
IS the testimony to Dr. Parr's talents, by one " differ- 
ing from kiim on many political points, and on some 
theoloeic«l questions. More to the sameeffect might 
be adduced on tlie same competent authority ; but, if 
the preacher, like him of whom he discoursed, " loved 
hii friend well, he loved truth better ;" and hence Dr. 
Butler has honestly and faithfully sketched a few 
ncoiisiderable weaknesses, which, to a correct judg- 
Er.ent, enlarge the nobility, and heighten the splen- 
dour of Dr. Parr's lieart and mind. Undeviating 
eulogy is pnaiseless praise. 
* Siowe. t M-iitland. t Stoive. 

writer of the last century * speaks of " a 
room being crammed as 'full of companv, 
as St. Bride's church upon tlie singing'a 
Spittle psalm at Easter, or an anthem on 
Cicelia's day," but within the last thirty 
years the Spital Sermons have been re- 
moved to Christ church, Newgate-street, 
where they are attended by the lord 
mayor, the aldermen, and the governors 
of Christ's, St. Bartholomew's, St. 
Thomas's, Bridewell, and Bethlem Hos- 
pitals ; after the sermon, it is the usage to 
read a report of the number of children, 
and other persons maintained and reliev- 
ed in these establishments. In 1825, the 
Spital Sermon on Easter Monday was 
preached by the bishop of Gloucester, 
and the psalm sung by the children of 
Christ's Hospital was composed by the 
rev. Arthur William Tiollope, D. D. 
head classical master. It is customary 
for the prelate on this occasion, to dine 
with the lord mayor, sheriffs, and alder- 
men at the Mansion-house. Hereafter 
there will be mention of similar invita- 
tions to the dignified clergy, when they 
discourse before the civic authorities. In 
1766, bishop Warburton having preached 
before the corporation, dined with the 
lord mayor, and was somewhat facetious; 
" Whether," says Warburton, " I made 
them wiser than ordinary at Bow (church,) 
I cannot tell. I certainly made them 
merrier than ordinary at the Mansion- 
house ; where we were magnificently treat- 
ed. The lord mayor told me—' The 
common council were much obliged to 
me, for that this was the first time he ever 
heard them prayed for ;' I said, ' I consi- 
dered them as a body who much needed 
the prayers of the church.' "f 

^n Easter Tale. 
Under this title a provincial paper 
gives the following detail : — In Roman 
catholic countries it is a very ancient 
custom for the preacher to divert his 
congregation in due season with what is 
termed a Fabtila Paschalis, an Eastern 
Tale, which was becomingly received by 
the auditors with peals of Easter laughter 
During Lent the good people had morti 
fied themselves, and prayed so much, 
that at length they began to be rather 
discontented and ill-tempered ; so that 
the clergy deemed it necessary to make 
a little fun from the pulpit for them, and 

« Ned Ward in his Dancing Schoot. 
t letters from a late eminent prelate. 



thu« give as ll were the first impulse 
towards tlie revival of mirtli and ciieer- 
fulness. This practice lasted till the 1 7th 
and in many places till the 18th century. 
Here follows a specimen of one of these 
tales, extracted from a truly curious vo- 
lume, the title of which may be thus ren- 
dered : — Moral and Religious Journey to 
Bethlem : consisting of various Sermons 
for the safe guidance of all strayed, con- 
verted, and misled souls, by the Rev. 
Father Attakasy, of Dilling. " Christ 
our Lord was journeying with St. Peter, 
and had passed through many countries. 
One day he came to a place where there 
was no inn, and entered the house of a 
blacksmith. This man had a wife, who 
paid the utmost respect to strangers, 
and treated them with the best that her 
house would afford. Wiien they were 
about to depart, our Lord and St. Peter 
wished her all that was good, and heaven 
into the bargain. Said the woman, ' Ah ! 
if I do but go to heaven, I care for no- 
thing else.' — ' Doubt not,' said St. Peter, 
for it would be contrary to scripture if 
thou shouldest not go to heaven. Let 
what will happen, thou must go thither. 
Open thy mouth. Did T not say so ? 
Why, thou canst not be sent to hell, 
where there is wailing and gnashing of 
leeth, for thou hast not a tooth left in thy 
head. Thou art safe enough; be of good 
cheer.' Who was so overjoyed as (he 
good woman ? Without doubt, she took 
another cup on the strength of this as- 
surance. But our Lord was desirous to 
testify his thanks to tlie man also, and 
promised to grant him four wishes. 
* Well,' said the smith, ' I am heartily 
obliged to you, and wish that if any one 
climbs up the pear-tree behind my house, 
he may not be able to get down again 
without my leave.' This grieved St. 
Peter not a little, for he thought that the 
smith ought rather to have wished for the 
kingdom of heaven ; but our Lord, with 
his wonted kindness, granted his petition. 
The smith's next wish was, that if any 
one sai down upon his anvil, he might 
not be able to rise without his permis- 
sion ; and the third, that if any one crept 
into his old flue, he miuht not have power 
to get out without his consent. St. Peter 
s lid, ' Friend smith, beware what thou 
■ lost These are all wishes that can bring 
tiee no advantage ; be wise, and let the 
r "maining one be for everlasting life with 
lie blessed in heaven.' The smith was 
not to be put out of h."s way, and thus 

proceeded : * My fourth wish is, that my 
green cap may belong to me for ever 
and that whenever I sit down upon it, na 
power or force may be able to drive me 
away.' This also received the fiat 
Thereupon our Lord went his way with 
Peter, and the smith lived some years 
longer with his old woman. At the end 
of this time grim death appeared, and 
summoned him to the other world 
'Stop a moment,' said the smith; Met 
me just put on a clean shirt, meanwhile 
you may pick some of the pears on 
yonder tree.' Death climbed up the tree ; 
but he could not get down again ; he was 
forced to submit to the smith's terms 
and promised him a respite of twenty 
years before he returned. When the 
twenty years were expired, he again ap- 
peared, and commanded him in the name 
of the Lord and St. Peter to go along 
with him. Said the smith, ' I know 
Peter too. Sit down a little on my anvil, 
for thou must be tired ; I will just drink 
a cup to cheer me, and take leave of my 
old woman, and be with thee presently. 
But death could not rise again from his 
seat, and was obliged to promise the 
smith another delay of twenty years. 
When these had elapsed, the devil came, 
and would fain have dragged the smith 
away by force. ' Holla, fellow 1' said 
the latter; ' that won't do. I have other 
letters, and whiter than thou, with thy 
black carta-bianca. But if thou art such 
a conjuror as to imagine that thou hast 
any power over me, let us see if thou 
canst get into this old rusty flue.' No 
sooner said than the devil slipped into 
the flue. The smith and his men put the 
flue into the fire, then carried it to the 
anvil, and hammered away at the old- 
one most unmercifully. He howled, and 
begged and prayed ; and at last promised 
that he would have nothing to do with 
the smith to all eternity, if he would but 
let him go. At length the smith's guar- 
dian-angel made his appearance. The 
business was now serious. He was 
obliged to go ; the angel conducted him 
to hell. The devil, whom he had so 
terribly belaboured, was just then attend- 
ing the gate; he looked out at the little 
window, but quickly shut it again, and 
would have nothing to do with the smith. 
The angel then conducted him to the 
gate of he-tven. St. Peter refused to 
admit him. ' Let me just peep in,' said 
the smith, * that I may see how it looks 
within there.' No sooner was the wicket 



opened than tTie smith threw in his cap, 
and said; ' Thou knowest it is my pro- 
perty, 1 must go and fetch it.' Then 
slipping past, he clapped himself down 
upon it, and said, ' Now I am sitting on 

my own property ; T should like to see 
who dares drive me away from it.' So 
the smith got into heaven at last. '* 

• Salisbury Gazette, January 8, 1818. 


Tliere is a remarkable notice by Dr. 
E. D. Clarke, the traveller, respecting a 
custom in the Greek islands. He says, 
" A circumstance occurs annually at 
Rhodes which deserves the attention of 
the literary traveller : it is the ceremony 
of carrying Silenus in procession at Easter. 
A troop of boys, crowned with garlands, 
draw along, in a car, a fat old man, at- 
tended with great pomp. I unfortunately 
missed bearing testimony to this remark- 
able example, among many others which 
I have witnessed, of the existence of 
pagan rites in popular superstitions. I 
was informed of the fact by Mr. Spurring, 
a naval architect, who resided at Rhodes, 
and Mr. Cope, a commissary belonging 
to the British army ; both of whom had 
seen the procession. The same ceremony 
also takes place in the island of Scio." 
It is only necessary here to mention the 
custom, without adverting to its pro- 
bable origin. According to ancient fable, 
Silenus was son to Pan, the god of shep- 
herds and huntsmen ; other accounts re- 
present him as the son of Mercury, and 
foster-father of Bacchus. He is usually 
described as a tipsey old wine-bibber ; 
and one stoiy of him is, that having lost 

his way in his cups, and being found by 
some peasants, they brought him to king 
Midas, who restored him " to the jolly 
god " Bacchus, and that Bacchus, grate- 
ful for the favour, conferred on Midas 
the power of turning whatever he touched 
into gold. Others say that Silenus was 
a grave philosopher, and Bacchus an en- 
terprising young hero, a sort of Tele- 
niachus, who took Silenus for his Mentor, 
and adopted his wise counsels. The en- 
graving is after an etching by Worlidge, 
from a sardonyx gem in the possession 
of the duke of Devonshire. 


St. Sixtus I. Pope, 2d Cent. 120 Per- 
sian Martyrs, a. d. 345. St. Celest'im, 
Pope, A. D. 432. St. iniliavi. Abbot of 
Eskille, A. D. 1203. St. Prudenthis, Bp 
A. D. 861. St. Celstis, in Irish Ceallach 
Abp. A. D. 1129. 


134-8. Laura de Koves died. She 
was born in 1304, and is celebrated for 
having been beloved by Petrarch, and fo 
having returned his passion by mdiffer 

Vol. I. 




ence. He fostered his love at Vaueluse, 
a romantic spot, wherein lie had nothing 
to employ him but recollection of her 
charms, and imagination of her perfec- 
tions. These he in?niortalized in sonnets 
while she lived ; Petrarch survived her six 
and thirty years. 

Francis I., who compared a court 
without ladies to a spring without flow- 
ers, caused Laura's tomb to be opened, 
and threw verses upon her remains com- 
plimentary to her beauty, and the fame 
she derived from her lover's praises. 

1803. Colonel Montgomery and cap- 
tain Macnamara quarrelled and fought a 
duel at Primrose-hill, because their dogs 
quarrelled and fought in Hyde-park. 
Captain Macnamara received colonel 
Montgomery's ball in the hip, and colonel 
Montgomery received captain Macna- 
mara's ball in the heart. Tiiis exchange 
of shots being according to the laws of 
duelling and projectiles. Colonel Mont- 
gomery died on the spot. Captain Mac- 
namara was tried at the Old Bailey, and, 
as a man of honour, was acquitted by a 
jury of men of honour. The laws of 
England and the laws of Christianity only 
bind honourable men ; men of honour 
govern each other by the superior power 
of sword and pistol. Tlie humble suicide 
is buried with ignominy in a cross road, 
and a finger-post marks his grave for 
public scorn ; the proud and daring duel- 
list reposes in a christian grave beneath 
marble, proud and daring as himself. 


Starch Hyacinth. Hyacintkns racemosus. 
Dedicated to St. Sixtus I. 

^pril 7. 

St. Aphraates, 4th Cent. St. Hegesippus, 

A. D. 180. St. Albert, A. D. 1140. 

B. Herman Joseph, a. d. 1226. St. 
Finan of Keann-Ethich. 


1520. Raphael d' Urbino died on the 
anniversary of his birth-day which was in 

1807. Lalande, the astronomer, died 
at Paris, aged 70. 


Wood Anemony. Anemone Ncmorosa. 
Dedicated to St. Aphraates. 

St. ^desins, a. d. 306. St. Perpetuus, 
Bp. a. d. 491. St. IFultcr, Abbot, 
a. d. 1099. B. Albert. Patriarch uf 
Jerusalem, a. d. 1214. 

1341. The expression of Petrarch's 
passion for Laura, gained him such cele- 
brity, that he had a crown of laurels 
placed upon his head, in the metropolis of 
the papacy, amidst cries from the Roman 
people, " Long live the poet !" 

1364. John, king of France, who had 
been brought prisoner to England by 
Edward, the Black Prince, in his captivity, 
died at the Savoy-palace, in the Strand. 


Ground Ivy. Glecoma hederacea. 
Dedicated to St. Dionysius. 

april 9. 

^pnl 8. 

St. Dionysius, Bp. of Corinth, 2d Cent. 

St. Mary of Egypt, a. d. 421. The Mas- 
sylitan Marti/rs in Africa. St. Enpsy- 
chhis. The Roman Captives, Martyrs 
in Persia, year of Christ 362, of Sapor 
53. St. JFultrude, or Vantrude, com- 
monly called Faiidrii, Widow, a. d. 
686. St. Gaucher, or Gantier, Abbot, 
A. D. 1130. St. Dotto, Abbot. 

1483. The great lord Bacon died, aged 
66. He fell from distinguished station 
to low estate, by having cultivated high 
wisdom at the expense of every day wis- 
dom. " Lord Bacon," says Rushworth, 
" was eminent over all the christian 
world for his many excellent writings. 
He was no admirer of money, yet he had 
the unhappiness to be defiled therewith. 
He treasured up nothing for himself, yet 
died in debt." His connivance at the 
bribery of his servants made them his 
master and wrought his ruin. The gifts 
of suitors in the chancery rendered him 
suspected, but his decrees were so equit- 
able that no one was ever reversed for its 

Let him who lacking wisdom desires 
to know, and who willing to be taught 
will patiently learn, make himself master 
of " Bacon's Essays." It is a book more 
admired than read, and more read than 
understood, because of higher thought 
than most readers dare to compass. He 
who has achieved the " Essays" has a 
master-key to Bacon's other works, and 
consequently every department of English 

1747. Lord Lovat was executed on 



Tower-hill, for high treason, at the age of 
90. He was a depraved, bad man ; and 
the coolness with which he wrought his 
profligate purposes, throughout an aban- 
doned life, he carried to the scaffold. 

1807. John Opie, the artist, died. He 
wa.s born in Cornwall in 1761 ; self- 
taught in his youth he attained to high 
rank as an English historical painter, and 
at his death was professor of painting at 
the Royal Academy. 


Red Polyanthus. Primula poly antha rubra. 
Dedicated to St. Mary. 

apnl 10. 

St. Bademus, Abbot, a.d. 376. B. Mech- 
tildes, Virgin and Abbess, after 1300. 

Low Sunday. 
The Sunday after Easter-day is called 
Low Sunday, because it is Easter-day 
repeated, with the church-service some- 
what abridged or lowered in the ceremony 
from the pomp of the festival the Sunday 


Pale Violet. Fiola Tonbrlgens 
Dedicated to St. Mechtildes. 

apnl 11. 

St. Leo the Great, Pope, a. d. 461. St. 

Jntipas. St. Guthlake, a. d. 714. St. 

Maccai, Abbot. St. Aid of Eacha- 

raidh, Abbot. 


1713. The celebrated peace of U- 
trecht was concluded, and with it con- 
cluded the twelve years' war for the suc- 
cession to the throne of Spain. 

floral directory. 
Dandelion. TaruTacnm Dens Leonis. 
Dedicated to St. Leo. 

apn'I 12. 

St. Sabas, a. u. 372. St. Zeno, Bp. a. d. 
380. St. Julius, Pope, a. d. 352. St. 
Victor, of Braga. 

65. Seneca, the philosopher, a native 
of Corduba in Spain, died at Rome, in 
the fifty-third year of his age. His moral 
wntmgs have secured lasting celebrity to 
his name. He was preceptor to Nero, 
who, in the wantonness of power when 

emperor, sent an order to Seneca to de- 
stroy himself. The philosopher complied 
by opening his veins and taking poison. 
During these operations he conversed 
calmly with his friends, and his blood 
flowing languidly he caused himself to be 
placed in a hot bath, till Nero's soldiers 
becoming clamorous for quicker extinction 
of his life, it was necessary to carry him 
into a stove and suffocated him by steam.* 
A distinguished French writer f quotes a 
passage from Seneca remarkable for its 
christian spirit ; but this passage is cited 
at greater length by a living English au- 
thor,! i" order to show that Seneca was 
acquainted with christian principles, and 
in reality a christian. 

We may almost be sure that it was 
impossible for Paul to have preached " in 
his own hired house," at Rome, wi'.hout 
Seneca having been attracted thither as 
an auditor, and entered into personal 
communication with the apostle. Tliere 
exists a written correspondence said to 
have passed between Paul and Seneca, 
which, so far as regards Seneca's epistles, 
many learned men have supposed ge- 


While Nero followed Seneca's advice, 
Rome enjoyed tranquillity. This empe- 
ror, who was tyrannical to a proverb, 
commenced his leign by acts of clemency, 
his sole object seemed to be the good of 
his people. When required to sign a 
list of malefactors, authorizing their exe- 
cution, he exclaimed, " I wish to heaven 
I could not write." He rejected flatterers; 
and when the senate commended the 
justice of his government, he desired 
them to keep their praises till he deserved 
them. Such conduct and sentiments 
were worthy the pupil of Seneca, and the 
Romans imagined their happiness secure 
But Nero's sensual and tyrannical dispo- 
sition, which had been repressed only for 
a time, soon broke forth in acts of mon- 
strous cruelty. He caused his mother 
Agrippa to be assassinated, and divorced 
his wife Octavia, whom he banished to 
Campania. The people, enraged at his 
injustice toward the empress, so openly 
expressed their indignation that he was 
compelled to reca-11 her, and she returned 
to the capital amidst shouts of exultation. 

* Lempriere. 

+ Bnyle, Art. Pericles, note. 

t Dr. John Jnnes, " On the Truth of the Christian 




The popular triumph was of short du- 
ration. Scarcely had Octavia resumed 
her rank, when Nero, under colour of a 
false and infamous charge, again banished 
her. Never exile filled the hearts of the 
beholders with more affecting compas- 
sion. The first day of Octavia's nuptials 
was the commencement of her funeral. 
She was brought under a sad and dismal 
roof, from whence her father and brother 
had been carried off by poison. Though 
a wife, she was treated as a slave, and 
now she suffered the imputation of a 
crime more piercing than death itself. 
Add to this, she was a tender girl in the 
twentieth year of her age, surrounded by 
officers and soldiery devoted to her hus- 
band's will, and whom she viewed as sad 
presages of his ferocious purposes. Al- 
most bereft of life by her fears, and yet 
unwilling to surrender herself to the rest 
of the grave, she passed the interval of a 
few days in unspeakable terror. At 
length it was announced to her that she 
must die ; but while she implored that at 

least her life might be spared, and con- 
jured Nero to remember the relationship 
which before marriage they had borne to 
each other, by descent from a revered 
ancestor, she only exemplified the utter 
inefficacy of crouching to a truculent 
tyrant. Her appeals were answered by 
the seizure of her person, and the binding 
of her limbs ; her veins were opened, but 
her blood, stagnant through fear, issued 
slowly, and she was stifled in the steam 
of a boiling bath. " For this execution 
the senate decreed gifts and oblations to 
the temples ; a circumstance," says Taci- 
tus, " which I insert with design, that 
whoever shall, from me or any other 
writer, learn the events of those calamitous 
times, he may hold it for granted, that as 
often as sentences of murder and banish- 
ment were pronounced by the prince, so 
often were thanksgivings by the fathers 
paid to the dei'if.s." Every decree of the 
senate was either a new flight of flattery 
cr the dregs of exressivp tameness and 


THE e7I':ry-day book.— APRIL 12. 


From this moment Nero butchered 
without distinction all he pleased, upon 
any idle pretence, and after an indiscri- 
minate slaughter of men signal in name 
and quality, he became possessed with 
a passion to hew down virtue itself. His 
crimes would be incredible if they were 
not so enormous that it is scarcely pos- 
sible imagination could invent atrocities 
of so foul a nature. He had attained to 
such indulgence in bloodshed, that the 
dagger itself was dedicated by him in 
the capitol, and inscribed to Jupiter 
Vindex, Jove the Avenger. Yet to this 
monster one of the consuls elect proposed 
that a temple should be raised at the 
charge of the state, and consecrated to 
the deified Nero as to one who soared 
above mortality, and was therefore enti- 
tled to celestial worship. This, though 
designed as a compliment to the tyrant, 
was construed into an omen of his fate, 
" since to princes," says Tacitus, " divine 
hoaours are never paid till they have 
finally forsaken all commerce with men," 

or, m other words, have ceased to be 
useful to them. Suetonius relates, that 
somebody in conversation saying, " When 
I am dead let fire devour the world" — 
" Nay," rejoined Nero, " let it be whilst 
I am living ;" and then he set Rome 
on file, in so barefaced a manner, that 
many of the consular dignitaries detected 
the incendiaries with torches and tow in 
their own houses, and dared not touch 
them because they were officers of Nero's 
bedchamber. The fire, during six days 
and seven nights, consumed a prodigious 
number of stately buildings, the public 
temples, and every thing of antiquity that 
was remarkable and worthy of preserva- 
tion. The common people were driven 
by this conflagration to the tombs and 
monuments for shelter; and Nero himself 
beheld the flames from a tower on tlie top 
of Maecenas's house, and sung a ditty on 
the destruction of Troy, in the dress which 
he used to perform in on the public stage. 
Tnis atrocious want of feeling occasioned 
the saying — "Nero fiddled whileltome was 



burning." To divert the hideousness of this 
crime from himself, he transferred the guilt 
to the Christians. To their death and torture 
were added cruel derision and sport; " for," 
says Tacitus, " either they were disguised 
in the skins of savage beasts, and exposed 
to expire by the teeth of devouring dogs ; 
or they were hoisted up alive and nailed 
to crosses ; or wrapt in combustible vest- 
ments, and set up as torches, that when 
the day set, they might be kindled to 
illuminate the night." Yoc this tragical 
spectacle Nero lent his own gardens, and 
exhibited at the same time the public 
diversions of the circus, sometimes driving 
a chariot in person, and at intervals 
standing as a spectator amongst the vulgar 
in the habit of a charioteer ; and hence 
towards the miserable sufferers popular 
commiseration arose, as for people who 
weie doomed to perish to gratify the 
bloody spirit of one man. At length, 
while plotting new and uncommon bar- 
barities, an insurrection broke out amongst 
the troops, and the senate, who had 
truckled to his wishes, and made him a 
tyrant by submitting to be slaves, took 
heart and issued a decree against him. 
He committed suicide, under circumstan- 
ces of such mental imbecility, that hia 
death was as ludicrous as his life was 

1765. Dr. Edward Young, author of 
the " Night Thoughts," died. 

1782. Admiral itodney defeated the 
French fleet under count de Grasse, in 
the West Indies. 

1814. A general illumination in Lon- 
don, on three successive nights, for the 
termination of the war with France. 

\ , .^ 


Great Saxifrage. Saxifraga crassifolia. 
Dedicated to St. Zeno. 

O^ritteti on a chimney-board.) 
Here Ije entombed 


of a 



In his youth it is confessed 

discovered some sparks 

«f a light and volatile nature. 

but was in maturity 

of a steady and a grateful disposition 

and diffusive benevolence. 

Though naturally of a warm temper, 

and easily stirred up, 

vet was he a shining example 

of fervent and unreserved benignity. 

For though he might have been 

the most dangerous and dreadtul 

of enemies, 

yet was he the best and warmest of 


Nor did he ever look cool 

even on his worst foes, 

though his friends too often, 

and shamefully indeed, 

turned their backs upon him. 

Oh ! undeserving and licentious times, 

when such illustrious examples 

are wantonly made light of ! 

Such resplendent virtue 

basely blown upon ! 

Though rather a promoter of a cheerful glass 

in others, 

and somewhat given to smoking, 

yet was he himself never seen 

in liquor, 

which was his utter abhorrence. 


which ruins most constitutions, 

was far from spoiling his, 

though it often threw him 

into inflammatory disorders. 

His days, which were short, 

were ended by a gentle decay, 

his strength wasted, 

and his substance spent. 

A temporal period 

was put to his finite existence, 

which was more immediately effected 

by his being seized 

with a severe cold, 

and no help administered, 

in some of the warm days 

of the fatal month of 


His loss and cheerful influence 

are often and feelingly regretted 

by his sincere admirers, 

who erected this monument 

in memory 

of his endearing virtue, 

till that grateful and appointed day, 


the dormant powers 

of his more illustrious nature 

shall be again caHed forth: 


inflamed with ardour, 

and with resplendence crowned, 

he shall again rise 


songs of joy and triumpfe 

o'er the grave. 




in'I 13, 

Oxford and Cambridge Terms begin. 
St. Hermcneffild, Martyr, a. n. 58G. 
St. Giiinoch, about 838. St. Caradoc, 
A. D. 1124. 

1517. Cairo taken by the sultan Se- 
lim, who thus became sole master of 


1748. The rev. Christopher Pitt, 
translator of Virgil, died at Blandford in 
Dorsetshii-e, where he was born in 1699. 

181 4. Charles Burney, Mus.D. F.R.S. 
&c. author of the " History of Music," 
and other works, which stamp his literary 
ability, and his scientific character as a 
musician, died at Chelsea, aged 88. 


A good-humoured J(^/ rfV«;;r;7, intended 
to produce nothing but corresponding 
good humour in the persons whose names 
are mentioned, appeared in The Times 
on the 25th of January, 1816. This be- 
ing the first day of Cambridge Term, the 
" freshmen" who have seen recent 
imitations may be much amused by 
perusal of the original witticism. 
Parody of a Cambridge Ejcamination. 
Utopia University. 
unuecf:mber <>657. 

1. Give a comparative sketch of the 
principal English theatres, with the dates 
of their erection, and the names of the 
most eminent candle-snuffers at each. 
What were the stage-boxes ? What were 
the offices of prompter — ballet-master — 
and scene-shifter? In what part of the 
theatre was the one-shilling gallery ? 
Distinguish accurately between operas 
and puppet-shows. 

2. Where was Downing-street ? Who 
was prime-minister when Cribb defeated 
Molineux — and where did the battle take 
place ? Explain the terms milling — fib- 
bing — cross buttock — neck and crop — 
bang up — and — prime. 

3. Give the dates of all the parlia- 
ments from their first institution to the 
period of the hard frost on the Thames. 
In what month of what year was Mr. Ab- 
bot elected Speaker? Why was he called 
" the little man in the loig ?" When the 
Speaker was out of the chair, where was 
die mace put ? 

4. Enumerate the principal houses of 
call in and about London, marking those 

of the Taylors, Bricklayers, and Shoe.' 
makers, and stating from what Brewery 
each house was supplied with Brown 
Stout. Who was the tutelary Saint of 
the Shoemakers? At what time was his 
feast celebrated ? Who was Saint Swithin ^ 
Do you remember any remarkable Eng- 
lish proverb respecting him ? 

5. Give a ground plan of Gilead- 
house. M-ention the leading topics of 
the Guide to Health, with some account 
of the Anti-Im-petigines — Dafij-'s Elixir — 
Blaine's Distemper Powders — Ching's 
Worm Lozenges — and Hooper's Female 

6. Give characters of Wat Tyler, Jack 
Cade, and sir Francis Burdett Did the 
latter return from the Tower by water or 
land ? On what occasion did Mr. Leth- 
bridge's " hair stand on ind" ? Correct 
the solecism, and give the reason of your 

7. Enumerate the roads on which dou- 
ble toll was taken on the Sundays. Dio 
this custom extend to Christmas-day and 
Good Friday ? Who was toll-taker at 
fyburn, when Mrs. Brownrigg was exe- 
cuted ? 

8. Distinguish accurately between 
Sculls and Oars— Boat, and Punt— Jack 
dss, and Donkey— Ganger, Exciseman, 
and Supervisor — Pantaloons, Trowsers, 
Gaiters, and Over-alls.- At what place of 
education were any of these forbidden ? 
Which ? and Why ? 

9. Express tne following words in the 
Lancashire, Derbyshire, London, and 
Exmoor dialects — Bacon — Poker — Y''ou-^ 
I — Doctor — and Turnpike-gate. 

10. Mention the principal Coach Inns 
in London, with a correct list of the 
Coaches which set out from the Bolt-in- 
Tun. Where were the chief stands of 
Hackney Coaches? — and what was the No. 
of that in which the Princess Charlotte 
drove to Connaught-house? To what 
stand do you suppose this removed after 
it set her down? 

1 1 . Give a succinct account, with dates, 
of the following persons — Belcht >• — Mr, 
Waithman — Major Caitwright — Martin 
Van Butchell — and Ed.uund Henry 

12. Draw a Map ol the Thames with 
the surrounding country, marking parti- 
cularly Wapping, Blackwall, Richmond, 
and the Isle of Dogs. Distinguish be- 
tween Newcastle-on-Tyne, and Newcastle- 
under-Line — Gloucester and Double 
Gloucester — and the two Richmonds. 



What celebrated teacher flourished at one 
of them ? — and who were his most emi- 
nent disciples? 

13. What were the various sorts of pa- 
per in use amongst the English ? To what 
purpose was wkited-brown chiefly ap- 
plied ? What was size ? Distinguish be 
tween this and college Sizings, and state 
the ordinary expense of papering a room. 

14. " For every one knows little Afatt's 
an M.P." Frag. Com. Inc. ap. Morn. 
Chron. vol. 59, p. 1624. 

What reasons can you assign for the 
general knowledge of this fact ? Detail 
at length, the ceremony of chairing a 
Member. What were the Hustings ? 
Who paid for them ? Explain the abbre 
viations — Matt. M.P. — Tom — Dick— 
F.R.S.— L.L.D.— and A.S.S. 

15. What was the distinguishing title 
of the Mayors of London ? Did any 
other city share the honour ? Give a list 
of the Mayors of London from Sir 
Richard Whittington to Sir William Cur- 
tis, with an account of the Cat of the 
first, and the Weight of the last. What 
is meant by Lord Mayor's day ? Describe 
the ylpothecnries' Barge, and give some 
account of Marrow-bones and Cleavers. 

16. When was Spy ring and Marsden's 
Lemon Acid invented? Distinguish be- 
tween this and Essential Salt of Lemons, 
Enumerate the principal Patentees, espe- 
cially those of Liquid Blacking. 

17. Scan the following lines — ■ 
But for shaving and tooth-drawing, 
Bleeding, cabbaging and sawing, 

Dicky Gossip, Dicky Gossip is the man ! 

What is known of the character and 
history of Dicky Gossip ? 


Green Narcisse. Narcissus Virid'ifiorus. 
Dedicated to St. Hermenigild. 

apm 14. 

called " the king-maker," was slain on 
the field. 

1685. Thomas Otway, the dramatic 
poet, died, at a public-house in the Mino- 
ries, of want, by swallowing bread too 
eagerly which he had received in charity. 

1759. George Frederick Handel, the 
illustrious musician, died. He was born 
at Halle, in Saxony, in 1684. 

1793. Tobago, in the West Indies, 
taken by the English. 

1 809. Beilby Porteus, bishop of Lon- 
don, died at Fulham, aged 78. 

Sts. Tiburtius, Fitlerian, and Max- 
imns, A D. 229. Sts. Carpus, Bishop, 
Papyhis, and Agathodorns, a. d. 251. 
Sts. Antony, John, and Eustachlus, a. d. 
1342. St. Benezet, or Little Bennet, 
A. D. 1 184. B. Lidwina, or Lydwid, a. d. 


1471. The battle of Barnet was fought 
in the wars between the houses of York 
«nd Lancaster, and the earl of Warwick, 


Borage. Borago Officinalis. 
Dedicated lo St. Lidwina. 


The Floral appearances of the year are 
accurately described by Dr. Forster in 
his " Perennial Calendar." He says, 
" In order to ascertain the varieties in 
the seasons, as indicated by the flowering 
of plants, we ought to become accurately 
acquainted with their natural periods, 
and the average time of flowering which 
belongs to each species. I have of late 
made an artificial division of the seasons 
of difflerent plants into six distinct pe- 
riods, to each of which respectively a 
certain number of species belong. Di- 
viding then the reign of the goddess of 
blooms into six principal portions, we 
shall begin with the first in the order of 
phenomena. The Primaveral Flora may 
be said to commence with the first break- 
ing of the frost before February ; it com- 
prehends the snowdrop, the crocus, the 
coltsfoot, all the tribe of daffodils, nar- 
cissi, jonquils, and hyacinths, the prim- 
rose, cyclamen, heartsease, violet, cowslip, 
crown imperial, and many others. The 
Equinox being also past, and the leaves 
beginning to bud foith amidst a display 
of blossoms on the trees, another period 
may be said to begin, and May ushers in 
the Vernal Flora, with tulips, peonies, 
ranunculi, monkey poppy, goatsbeards, 
and others : at this time, the fields are 
bespangled with the golden yellow of the 
crowfoot, or blue with the harebells 
The whole bosom of earth seems spread 
with a beautiful carpet, to soften the path 
of Flora, at this delicious season. By 
and bye, towards the middle of June, the 
approach of the Solstice is marked by 
another set of flowers ; and the scarlet 



lychnis, the various poppies, the lilies 
and roses, may be said to constitute the 
Solstitial Flora. As the year declines, 
the Aestival Flora, corresponding to the 
Vernal, paints the garish eyes of the dog- 
days with sunflowers, China asters, tro- 
poeoli, African marigolds, and other plants 
which love heat. The Autumnal Flora, 
answering to the Primaveral, then intro- 
duces Michaelmas daisies, starworts. and 
other late blowing plants, with their 
companions, fungi and mushrooms, till at 
length bleak winter shows only a few 

hellebores, aconites, and mosses, belong- 
ing to the Hibernal Flora of this dreary 
season. Thus, in this our temperate cli- 
mate, have we a round of botanical amuse- 
ments all the year, and the botanist 
can never want for sources of recreation . 
How different must be the order of phe- 
nomena about the poles of the earth, 
where summer and winter are synony- 
mous with day and night, of which Kirke 
White has given us a very fine descrip- 
tion :— 

On the North Pole. 

Where the North Pole, in moody solitude, 

Spreads iier huge tracts and frozen wastes around , 

There ice rod piled aloft, in order rude, 
Form a gigantic hall ; where never sound 
Startled dull Silence' ear, save when, profound 

The smoke frost muttered : there drear Cold for aye 
Thrones him, — and fixed on his primaeval mound, 

Ruin, the giant, sits ; while stern Dismay 
Stalks like some woe-struck man along the desert way. 

In that drear spot, grim Desolation's lair. 
No sweet remain of life encheers the sight ; 

The dancing heart's blood in an' instant there 

Would freeze to marble. Mingling day and night, 

(Sweet interchange which makes our labours light,] 
Are there unknown ; while in the summer skies, 
The sun rolls ceaseless round his heavenly height. 

Nor ever sets till from the scene he flies, 
And leaves the long bleak night of half the year to rise. 

^pill 15. 

St. Peter Gonzales, or Telm, or Elm, 
A. D. 1246. Sts. Basilissa and Anastasia, 
1 St Cent. St. Paternus, Bishop, or Pa- 
tier, Pair, or Foix, 6th Cent. St. Munde, 
Abbot, A. D. 962. St. Ruadhan, a. d. 584. 


Average day of arrival of Spring Birds 
from a Twenty years' Journal. 

April 3. Smallest Willow Wren. Fi- 
caria pinetorutn arrives. 

April 10. Common Willow Wien. Fi- 
earia Saliaitn arrives. 

April 14. Called First Cuckoo Day in 
Sussex The Cuckoo, cuculus canorits, 
sometimes heard. 

April 15. Called Swalloiv Day. Tlie 
Chimney Swallow, Hirundo rustica, ar- 

April 19. The Sand Swallow. Hirundo 
ripuria arnves. 

April 20. The Martin. Hirundo ter- 
btca sometimes seen 

April 21. The Cuckoo, commonly 


April 30. The Martin, commonly seen 
The other vernal birds arrive between 

the 15th and 30th of the month.* 


Green Stitchwort. Stellaria kolosfea. 
Dedicated to St. Peter Gonzales. 

An April Day. 

Dear Emma, on that infant brow. 
Say, why does disappointment low'i 1 

Ah ! what a silly girl art thou, 
To weep to see a summer show'r ' 

O, dry that unavailing tear. 

The promis'd visit you shall pay ; 

The sky will soon again be clear, 
For 'tis, my love, an April day 

* Commuvicatcd by a scientific gentleman, whos« 
daily observations and researclies inNBtural History, 
•tamp value upon his contributions. 



And see, the sun's returning light 

Away the transient clouds hath diiv'n 

The rainbow's arch with colours bright 
Spreads o'er the blue expanse of heav'n • 

The storm is hush'd, the winds are still, 
A balmy fragrance fills the air ; 

Nor sound is heard, save some clear rill 
Meandering thro* the vallies fair. 

Those vernal show'rs that from on high 
Descend, make earth more fresh and 
green ; 

Those clouds that darken all the air 
Disperse, and leave it more serene 

And those soft tears that for awhile 
Down sorrow's faded cheek may roll, 

Shall sparkle thro' a radiant smile, 
And speak the sunshine of the soul ! 

While yet thy mind is young and pure. 
This sacred truth, this precept learn — 

That He who bids thee all endure. 
Bids sorrow fly, and hope return. 

His chast'ning hand will never liie:it 
The heait that trusts in Him alone : 

He never, never will forsake 

The meanest suppliant at his throne. 

The world, that with unfeeling pride 
Sees vice to virtue oft preferr'd, 

From thee, alas ! may turn aside — 
O, shun the fawnmg, flatt'ring '»«rvl ' 

And while th' Eternal gives thee health 
With joy thy daily course to ran. 

Let wretches hoard their useless wealth, 
And Heav'n's mysterious will be done. 

With fair Religion, woo content, 

'Twill bid tempestuous passions cease , 

And know, my child, the life that's spent 
In pray'r and praise, must end in peace 

The dream of Life is quickly past, 
A little while we linger here ; 

And tho' the Morn be overcast, 

The Ev'ning may be bright and clear 

I^lingto7i. D, G. 

An Evening in SprtJig, 
Now the noon, 
Wearied with sultry toil, declines and falls 
Into the mellow eve : — the west puts on 
Her gorgeous beauties — palaces and halls 
And towers, all carved of the unstable cloud 
Welcome the calray waning monarch — he 
Sinks gently 'midst that glorious canopy 
Down on his couch of rest — even like a proud 
King of the earth — the ocean. 


gipril 16. 

Eighteen Martyrs of Saragossa, and 
St. Encratis, or Engratia, a. u. 304. St. 
Turibhis, Bp. 420. St. Fructuosus, Abp. 
A. D. 665. St. Drnon, or Drngo, a. d. 
1186. St. Joachim of Sienna, a. d. 1305. 
St. Mans, or Magnus, a. d. 1104. 

" The Venerable 
" Benedict Joseph Labre, 

'•* JFho died in the odour of sanctity, 
"On the 16th of April, 1783." 

If such a creature as the venerable B. 
J. Labre can be called a man, he was one 
of the silliest that ever lived to creep and 
whine, and one of the dirtiest that ever 
" died .n the odour of sanctity ;" and 
yet, for the edification of the English, his 
life is translated from the French " by 
the lev. M. James Barnard, ex-president 
f the English college at Lisbon and 
Vicar General of the London distict." 

From this volume it appears that Labre 

was born at Boulogne, on the 26tn oi 
March, 1748. When a child he would 
not play as other children did, but made 
little oratories, and "chastised his body." 
Having thus early put forth " buds of self- 
denial and self-contempt," he was taught 
Latin, educated superior to his station, 
did penance, made his first general con- 
fession, and found his chief delight at the 
feet of altars. At sixteen years old, in- 
stead of eating his food he gave i: away 
out of the window, read pious books as 
he walked, turned the house of his uncle, 
a priest, into " a kind of monastery, 
observed religious poverty, monkish si- 
lence, and austere penance, and, by way of 
humility, performed abject offices for the 
people of the parish, fetched provender 
for their animals, took care of their cattle, 
and cleaned the stalls. The aversion which 
he entertained against the world, induced 
him to enter into a convent of Carthu- 
sians ; there he discovered that he dis- 
liked profound retirement, and imagined 
he should not be able to save hi» soul 



unless he embraced an order more austere. 
Upon this he returned home, added ex- 
traordinary mortifications to his fasts and 
prayers, instead of sleeping on his bed 
lay on the floor, and told his mother he 
wished to go and live upon roots as the 
anchorets did. All tins he might have 
done in the Carthusian convent, but his 
brain seems to have been a little cracked, 
for he resolved to go into another Carthu- 
sian convent, the prior of which would 
not admit him till he had studied * philo- 
sophy' for a year, and learned the Gre- 
gorian chant." Church music was veiy 
agreeable to him — but it was not so with 
regard to logic; "notwithstanding all 
his efforts, he was never able to conquer 
his repugnance to this branch of study ;" 
yet he somehow or other scrambled 
through an examination ; got admitted 
into the convent ; " thought its rules far 
too mild for such a sinner as he looked 
upon himself to be ;" and after a six 
weeks' trial, left it in search of admission 
into the order of La Trappe, as the most 
rigid of any that he knew. The Trap- 
pists would not have him ; this refusal he 
looked upon as a heavenly favour, be- 
cause the monastery of Sept-Fonts sur- 
passed La Trappe in severe austerities 
and discipline, and there he became a 
" novice" till the life he fancied, did not 
agree with him. " Having a long time 
before quitted his father's house he could 
not think of returning to it again;" and 
at two and twenty years af age he knew 
not what to do. His biographer says, 
that " little fit for the cloister, and still 
less fit for the world, he was destitute of 
the means of getting a livelihood; and 
being now persuaded of what were the 
designs of God concerning him, he re- 
solved to follow the conduct, the light, and 
inspirations of the holy spirit, and to 
submit himself to all the sufferings and 
afflictions which might await him." If in 
this condition some one had compelled 
him to eat a good dinner every day, 
made him go to bed at a proper hour and 
take proper rest, and then set him on 
horseback and trotted him through the 
fresh air and sun-shine every forenoon, he 
might have been restored; or if his parents, 
as ill duty they ought, had bound him ap- 
prentice at a proper age to a good trade, he 
might have been an useful member of 
society. These thoughts, however, never 
appear to have entered Labre's head, and 
in the dilemma represented " his love of 
humility, poverty, and a penitential life. 

presented to his zealous mind the prac- 
tice of that kind of piety which he after- 
wards put in execution" His first step to 
this was writing a farewell letter to his pa- 
rents, on the 31st of August, 1770, " and 
from that time they never received any 
account of him till after his death." His 
next steps were pilgrimages. First he 
went to Loietto " from tender devotion 
to the Blessed Virgin, whom he looked on 
as his mother;" nextto Assissium the birth- 
place of St. Francis, where he, " accord- 
ing to custom, got a small blessed cord 
which he constantly wore ;" then he went 
to Rome where he sojourned for eight or 
nine months and wept " in the presence 
of the tomb of the holy apostles ;" after- 
wards " he visited the tomb of St. Romuald 
at Fabrieno, where the inhabitants im- 
mediately began to look upon him as a 
saint;" from thence he returned to Lo- 
retto ; he then journeyed to Naples^ and 
had the pleasure of seeing the blood of 
St. Januarius which would not liquify 
when the French entered Naples, till the 
French general threatened the priests who 
performed the miracle that the city would 
suffer, if the saint remained obstinate ; 
" and in short," says the rev. Vicar 
General of the London district, *' there 
was hardly any famous place of devotion 
in F.urope which was not visited by this 
servant of God ;" — the Vicar General's 
sentence had concluded better with the 
words " this slave of superstitioji." To 
follow Labre's other goings to and fro 
would be tedious, suffice it to say that at 
one of his Loretto trips some people 
offered him an abode, in order to save 
him the trouble of going every night to a 
barn at a great distance; but as they had 
prepared a room for him with a bed in it 
he thought this lodging was too sump 
tuous ; and he therefore retired into a 
hole " cut out of the rock under the 
street." Labre at last favoured the city 
of Rome by his fixed residence, and sanc- 
tified the amphitheatre of Flavian by 
making his home in a hole of the ancient 

In this " hole of sufficient depth to hold 
and shelter him in a tolerable degree from 
the weather," he deposited himself every 
night for several years. He employed 
the whole of everj' day, " sometimes in 
one church and sometimes in another, 
praying most commonly upon his knees, 
and at other times standing, and always 
keeping his body as still as if he were a 
statue.'' Labre's daily exercise in fasting 



and lifelessness reduced him to a help- 
less state, tliat a beggar had compassion 
on him, and gave him a recommendation 
to an hospital, where " by taking medi- 
cines proper lor his disorder, and more 
substantial food, he soon grew well ;" but 
relapsing into his " constant, uniform, 
and hidden life," he became worse. This 
opportunity of exhibiting Labre's virtues 
is not neglected by his biographer, who 
minutely informs us of several particulars, 
1st. lie was so careful to observe the law 
of silence, that in the course of a whole 
month, scarcely any one coul I hear him 
speak so much as a few words. 2dly. 
lie lived in the midst of Rome, as if he had 
lived in the midst of a desert. Sdly. 
He led a life of the greatest self-denial, 
destitute of every thing, disengaged from 
every earthly affection, unnoticed by all 
mankind, desiring no other riches than 
poverty, no other pleasures than mortifi- 
cation, no other distinction than that of 
being the object of universal contempt. 
4thly. He indulged in rigorous poverty, 
exposed to the vicissitudes and inclemen- 
cies of the weather, without shelter 
against the cold of winter or the heat of 
summer, wearing old clothes, or rather 
rags, eating very coarse food, and for three 
years living in the *' hole in the wall." 
5thly. To his privations of all worldly 
goods, he joined an almost continual ab- 
stinence, frequent fasts, nightly vigils, 
lively and insupportable pains from par- 
ticular mortifications, and two painful tu- 
mours which covered both his knees, from 
resting the whole weight of his body on 
them when he prayed. 6thly. "He look- 
ed upon himself as one of the greatest of 
sinners ;" and this was the reason why " he 
chose to lead a life of reproach and con- 
tempt," why he herded " among the mul- 
titude of poor beggars," " why he chose 
to cover himself with rags and tatters in- 
stead of garments, why he chose to place 
a barrier of disgust between himself and 
mankind," why "he abandoned himself 
to the bites of disagreeable insects," and 
why he coveted to be covered with filthy 

Labre's biographer, who was also his 
confessor, says that his " appearance was 
disagreeable and forbidding; his legs were 
half naked, his clothes were tied round 
tlie waist with an old cord, his head was 
Cncombed, he was badly clothed and 
wrapped up in an old and ragged coat, 
and in his outward appearance he seemed 
to be the most miserable beggar that I 
liad ever seen." His biographer further 

says, " I never heard his confession but in 
a confessional, on purpose that there might 
be some kind of separation between us." 
The holy fatiier's lively reason for this pre- 
caution, any history of insects with the 
word " pediculus" will describe accurately 

Thus Labre lived and died ; and here 
it might be supposed would end his me- 
moirs. But, no. In whatever odour he 
lived, as he " died in the odour of sanc- 
tity," an enthusiasm seized some persons 
to touch Labre dead, who, when living, 
was touchless. Labre being deceased, was 
competent to work miracles ; accordingly 
he stretched out his left hand, and laid 
hold on the board of one of the benches 
On Easter-day being a holiday, he work- 
ed more miracles, and wonders more 
wonderful than ever were wondered 
in our days, as may be seen at large, in 
the aforesaid volume, entitled — " The Life 
of the venerable Benedict Joseph Labre, 
who died at Rome, in the odour of sanc- 
tity." The portrait, from which the en- 
g:raving on this page is taken, was pub- 
lished immediately after his death by Mr. 
Coghlan, Catholic bookse)ler,Duke-streei, 
Grosvenor-square, from a drawing in liis 

Miracle at Sotners Toirn. 
The authenticity of the following extra- 
ordinary fact can be verified. Mr. H — 



a iv.iddle-aged gentleman, long afflicted 
by various disorders, and especially by 
the gout, had so far recovered from a 
severe attack of the latter complaint, that 
he was enabled to stand, yet with so little 
advantage, that he could not walk more 
than fifty yards, and it took lum nearly 
an hour to perform that distance. While 
thus enfeebled by suffering, and safely 
creeping in great difficulty, on a sunny 
day, along a level footpath by the side 
of a field near Somers Town, he was 
alarmed by loud cries, intermingled with 
the screams of many voices behind him. 
From his infirmity, he could only turn 
very slowly round, and then, to his asto- 
nishment, he saw, within a yard of his 

coat-tail, the horns of a mad bullock ' 
when, to the equal astonishment of its 
puisuers, this unhappy gentleman in 
slant ly leaped the fence, and overcome 
by terror, continued to run with amazing 
celerity nearly the whole distance of the 
field, while the animal kept iti own 
course along the road. Tlie gentleman, 
who had thus miraculously recovered the 
use of his legs, retained his power of 
speed until he reached his own house, 
where he related the miraculous circum- 
stance ; nor did his quickly-rer.tored fa- 
culty of walking abate, until it ceased 
with his life several years afterwards. 
This " miraculous cure" can be attested 
by his surviving relatives. 



In April, 1818, London was surprised 
by the sudden appearance of an opt cal 
instrument for creating and exhibiting 
beautiful forms, which derives its name 
from xaXos beautiful, eiSos a form, and 
ffxcTiu to see. The novelty was so en- 
chanting, that opticians could not manu- 
facture kaleidoscopes fast enough, to meet 

the universal desire for seeing the delight- 
ful and ever-varying combinations, pre- 
sented by each turn of the magical cy- 

The kaleidoscope was invented by Dr. 
Brewster, to whom, had its exclusive 
formation been ensured, it must have pro- 
duced a handsome fortune in the course 
of a single year. Unhappily, that geu- 



tlenian was deprived of his just reward 
by fraudful anticipation.* He says, " I 
thought it advisable to secure the ex- 
clusive property of it by a patent ; but in 
consequence of one of the patent instru- 
ments having been exhibited to one of 
the London opticians, the remarkable 
properties ot the kaleidoscope became 
known before any number of them could 
be prepared for sale. The sensation ex- 
cited in London by this premature exlii- 
bition of its effects is incapable of descrip- 
tion, and can be conceived only by those 
who witnessed it. It may be sufficient 
to remark, that, according to the com- 
putation of those who were best able to 
form an opinion on the subject, no fewer 
than two hundred thousand instruments 
have been sold in London and Paris 
during three months." 

The Kaleidoscope, 

Mystic trifle, whose perfection 

Lies in multiplied reflection, 

Let us from thy sparkling store 

Draw a few reflections more : 

In thy magic circle rise 

All things men so dearly prize , 

Stars, and crowns, and glitt'ring things, 

Such as grace the courts of kings ; 

Beauteous figures ever twining, — 

Gems with brilliant lustre shining ; 

Turn the tube ; — how quick they pass — 

Crowns and stars prove broken glass ! 

Trifle ! let us from thy store 
Draw a few reflections more ; 
Who could from thy outward case 
Half thy hidden beauties trace ? 
Who fiom such exterior show 
Guess the gems within that glow 1 
Emblem of the mind divine 
Cased within its mortal shrine ! 

Once again — the miser views 

Thy sparkling gems — thy golden hues — 

And, ignorant of thy beauty's cause. 

His own conclusions sordid draws ; 

Imagines thee a casket fair 

Of gorgeous jewels rich and rare ; — 

Impatient his insatiate soul 

To be the owner of the whole, 

He breaks thee ope, and views within 

Some bits of glass — a tube of tin ! 

Such are riches, valued true — 

Such the illusions men pursue ! 

W. H. M. 

gipnl 17. 

St. Anicetus, Pope, 2d. Cent. St. 
Stephen, Abbot, a. d. 1134. St. Simeon-, 
Bishop, and other Martyrs, a. d. 341. 


Yellow Tulip. Tnl'ipa Sylvestris. 
Dedicated to St. Joachim of Sienna. 

• Brewster's Hist, of the Kaleidoscope. 



Antiquaries are exceedingly puzzled 
respecting the derivation of this annual 
festival, which commenced the fifteenth 
day after Easter, and was therefore a 
movable feast dependent upon Easter.* 
Though Matthew Paris, who is the oldest 
authority for the word Hoke-ffa?/, says it 
is " quindena paschse," yet Mr. Douce 
assigns convincing reasons for takiwg it as 
the second Tuesday after Easter. At 
\ioc\i.-tide, which seems to have included 
Monday and Tuesday, collections of Hock- 
money were made in various parishes by 
the churchwardens, until the Reform- 
ation.f Tuesday was the principal day. 
Hock Monday was for the men, and 
Hock Tuesday for the women. On both 
days the men and women alternately, with 
great merriment, intercepted the public 
roads with ropes, and pulled passengers 
to them, from whom they exacted money 
to be laid out for pious uses; Monday 
probably having been originally kept as 
only the vigil or introduction to the fes- 
tival of Hock-day. Mr. Brand unaccount- 
ably, because inconsistently with his pre- 
vious representations respecting the anti- 
quity of the custom of heaving at Easter, 
derives that custom from the men and 
women Hocking each other, and collecting 
money at Hock-tide. 

It is a tradition that this festival was 
instituted to commemorate the massacre 
of the Danes in England, under Ethel- 
dred, in the year 1002 ; a supposition 
however wholly unsupportable, because 
that event happened on the feast ot 
St. Brice, in the month of November. 
Another and more reasonable opinion 
is, that the institution celebrated the 
final extinction of the Danish power 
by the death of Hardicanute, on the 
sixth day before the ides of June, 1042. J 

* Naros's Glossary. 

t See large extracts from their accounts, in 
Brand. &c. 
t AlUn's Hist, of Lambeth. 



Yet, in relation to tlie former event, 
" certain good-hearied men of Coventry" 
petitioned, " that they might renew their 
old storial show" of the Hock-tide play 
before queen Ehzabeth, when she was on 
a visit to the earl of Leicester, at his 
castle of Kenib.vorth, in July, 1575. Ac- 
cording to '• Laneham's Letter," this 
" storial show" set forth how the Danes 
were for quietness borne, and allowed to 
remain in peace withal, until on the said 
St. Brice's night they were " all despatch- 
ed and the realm rid ;" and because the 
matter did show " in action and rhymes" 
how valiantly our English women, for 
love of their country, behaved, the " men 
of Coventry" thought it might move some 
mirth in her majesty. " The thing," said 
they, '• is grounded in story, and for pas- 
time (was) wont to be played in our city 
yearly without ill example of manners, 
papistry, or anv superstition :" and they 
Knew no cause wny ii was then of late 
.aid down, " unless it was by the zeal of 
certain of their preachers ; men very com- 
mendable for their behaviour and learning, 
and sweet m their sermons, but somewhat 
too sour in preaching away their pastime." 
By license, therefore, they got up their 
Hock-tide play at Kenilworth, wherein 
" capt. Cox/' a person here indescribable 
without hindrance to most readers, " came 
marching on valiantly before, clean 
trussed and garnished above the knee, all 
fresh in a velvet cap, flourishing with his 
ton-sword, and another fence-master with 
him, making room for the rest. Then 
proudly came the Danish knights on 
horseback, and then the English, each 
with their alder-pole martially in their 
hand." The meeting at first waxing warm, 
then kindled with courage on both sides 
into a hot skirmish, and from that into a 
blazing battle with spear and shield ; so 
that, by outrageous races and fierce en- 
counters, horse and man sometimes tum- 
bled to the dust. Then they fell to with 
sword and target, and did clang and 
bang, till, the fight so ceasing, afterwards 
followed the foot of both hosts, one after 
the other marching, wheeling, forming in 
squadrons, triangles, and circles, and so 
winding out again; and then got they so 
grisly together, that inflamed on each 
side, twice the Danes had the better, but 
at the last were quelled, and so being 
wholly vanquished, many were led cap- 
tive in triumph by our English women. 
This matter of good pastime was wrought 
under the window of her highness, who 

beholding in the chamber delectable 
dancing, and therewith great thronging 
of the people, saw but little of the Co- 
ventry play ; wherefore her majesty con> 
manded it on the Tuesday following, t^ 
have it full out, and being then accord- 
ingly presented, her highness laughed 
right well. Then too, played the " good- 
hearted men of Coventiy" the merrier, 
and so much the more, because her ma- 
jesty had given them two bucks, and five 
marks in money ; and they prayed for 
her highness long happily to reign, and 
oft to come thither, that oft they might see 
her; and rejoicing upon their ample re- 
w ird, and triumphing upon their good 
acceptance, vaunted their play was never 
so dignified, nor ever any players before 
so beatified-* 


Fravi's Cowl. Arum Arisarum 
Dedicated to iS^ Stephen of Citeaux 

apn'I 18. 

St. ApoUonius, a. d. 186. St. Galdin, 
Abp. 1176. St. Laserian, or Molaisre, 
Bp. of Leighlin, a. d. 638. 

1689. The infamous judge Jefteries 
died in the tower, whither he had been 
committed by the lords of the council, 
after he had been taken in the disguise of 
a common sai-lor for the purpose of leav- 
ing England. He was born at Acton, 
near Wrexham, in Denbighshire, and 
being raised to the bench, polluted its 
sanctity by perversions of the law. His 
habits and language were vulgar and dis- 
gusting. John Evelyn says, " I went 
this day to a wedding of one Mrs. Castle, 
to whom I had some obligation ; and it 
was to her fifth husband, a lieutenant- 
colonel of the city. She was the daughter 

* Concerning the Coventry Hock-tide play, it 
IS reasonable to expect curious information from 
a forthcominfj " Dif^ertation on the Pageant> 
or Dramatic Mysteries, anciently performed at 
Coventry, chiefly with reference to the vehic 'e, 
characters, and dresses of the actors," by Mr. 
Tliomas Sharp, of Coventry, who, with access 
to the corporation manuscripts, and to other 
sources hitherto unexplored, and, above all, with 
the requisite knowledge and qualifications, wirl 
probably throw greater light on the obsolete 
drama, than has devolved upon it from the la 
hours ol any preceding antiquary. 



of one Bruton, a broom-man, by his wife, 
who sold kitchen-sluff in Rent-street, 
whom God so blessed, that the father 
became very rich, and was a very honest 
man ; and this daughter was a jolly, 
friendly woman. There were at the wed- 
ding- the lord mayor, the sheriff", several 
aldermen, and persons of quality ; above 
all sir George Jeff'eries, newly made lord 
chief justice of England, who, with Mr. 
justice Withings, danced with the bride, 
iOQ were exceeding merry ! These great 
men spent the rest of the afternoon, till 
eleven at night, in drinking healths, 
taking tobacco, and talking much beneath 
the gravity of judges that had but a day 
or two before condemned Mr. Algernon 
Sidney, who was executed the 7th of Dec. 
1683, on Tower-hill, on the single witness 
of that monster of a man, lord Howard 
of Escrick, and some sheets of paper 
taken in Mr. Sidtiey's study, pretended 
to be written by him, but not fully proved." 
James II. found Jefferies a fit instrument 
for his arbitrarypurposes. After the defeat 
of the duke of Monmouth in the west, 
he employed the most sanguinary mis- 
creants, and Jefferies among the rest, to 
wreak his vengeance on the deluded 
people. Bishop Burnet says, that Jef- 
reries's behaviour was brutally disgusting, 
beyond any thing that was ever heard of 
in a civilized nation ; " he was perpe- 
tually either drunk or in a rage, liker a 
fury than the zeal of a judge." He re- 
quired the prisoners to plead guilty, on 
pretence of showing them favour; but he 
aftei"wards showed them no mercy, hanging 
many immediately. He hanged in several 
places about six hundred persons. The 
king had a daily account of Jefferies' 
proceedings, which he took pleasure to 
relate in the drawing-room to foreign mi- 
nisters, and at his table he called it Jef- 
feries's campaign. Upon Jefferies' return, 
he created him a peer of England, by the 
title of earl of Flint. During these 
" bloody assizes," the lady Lisle, a noble 
woman of exemplary character, whose 
husband had been murdered by the Stuart 
party, was tried for entertaining two gen- 
tlemen of the duke of Monmouth's army ; 
and though the jury twice brought her in 
not guilty, Jefferies sent them out again 
and again, until, upon his threatening to 
attaint them of treason, they pronounced 
her guilty. Jeff'eries, before he tried this 
lady, got the king to promise that he 
would not pardon her, and the only fa- 
vour she obtained was the change of her 

sentence from burning to beheading. 
Mrs. Gaunt, a widow, near Wapping, 
who was a Baptist, and spent her time in 
acts of charily, was tried on a charge of 
having hid one Burton, who, hearing 
that tl>e king had said that he would 
sooner pardon rebels than those who har- 
boured them, accused his benefactress of 
having saved his life. She was burned at 
the stake. The excellent William Pena 
the Quaker, saw her die, and related the 
manner of her death to Burnet. She laid 
the straw about her for her burning 
speedily, and behaved herself so heroic- 
ally, that all melted into tears. Six men 
were hanged at Tyburn, on the like 
charge, witiiout trial. At length, the 
bloody and barbarous executions were 
so numerous, that they spread horror 
throughout the nation. England was an 
acaldema : the country, for sixty miles 
together, from Bristol to Exeter, had a 
new and terrible sort of sign-posts or 
gibbets, bearing the heads and limbs of 
its butchered inhabitant?. Every soul 
was sunk in anguish and terror, sighing 
by day and by night for deliverance, but 
shut out of all hope, till the arrival of the 
prince of Orange, on whom the two 
houses of parliament bestowed the crown. 
Jefferies had attained under James II. to 
the high office of lord chancellor. 

1794. Died Charles Pratt, earl Cam- 
den, born in 1713. As chief justice of 
the common pleas, he was distinguished 
for having discharged the celebrated John 
Wilkes from the towei By that decision, 
general warrants were pronounced illegal; 
and for so great a service to his country, 
lord Camden received the approbation 
of his fellow citizens ; they conferred on 
him the freedom of their cities, an 
placed his picture in their corporatior 
halls. He was equally distinguished for 
opposing the opinion of prerogative law- 
yers in matters of libel. At his death he 
was lord president of the council. Firm 
of purpose, arwl mild in manners, he was 
a wise and amiable man. It is pleasantly 
related of him, that while chief justice, 
being upon a visit to lord Dacre,at Alveley, 
in Essex, he walked out with a gentle- 
man, a very absent man, to a hill, at no 
great distance from the house, upon the 
top of winch stood the stocks of the vil- 
lage. The chief justice sat down upon 
them ; and after a while, having a mmd 
to know what the punishment was, he 
asked his companion to open them and 



put him in This bein;; done, his friend 
took a book from his pocket, sauntered 
on, and so completely forgot the judge 
and his situation, that he returned to lord 
Dacre's. In the mean time, the chief jus- 
tice being tired of the stocks, tried in vain 
to release himself Seeing a countryman 
pass by, he endeavoured to move him to 
let him out, but obtained nothing by his 
motion. " No, no, old gentleman," said 
the countryman, " you was not set there 
for nothing;" and left him, until he was 
released by a servant of the house des- 
patched m quest of him. Some time 
after he presided at a trial in -which a 
charge was brought against a magistrate 
for false imprisonment, and for setting in 
the stocks. The counsel for the magis- 
trate, in his reply, made light of the 
whole charge, and more especially setting 
in the stocks, which he said every body 
knew was no punishment at all. The 
chief justi-ce rose, and leaning over the 
bench, said, in a half-whisper, " Brother, 
have you ever been in the stocks .'" 
" Really, my lord, never." — " Then I 
have," said the judge, " and I assure 
you, brother, it is no such trifle as you 

1802. Dr. Erasmus Darwin died. lie 
was born at Newark in Nottinghamshire, 
in 1732, and attained to eminence as a 
physician and a botanist. His decease 
was sudden. Riding in his carriage, he 
found himself mortally seized, pulled the 
check-string, and desired his servant to 
help him to a cottage by the road-side. 
On entering, they found a woman within, 
whom the doctor addressed thus, " Did 
you ever see a man die I" — " No, sir." — 
" Then now you may." The terrified 
woman ran out at the door, and in a few 
minutes Darwin was no more. He stre- 
nuously opposed the use of ardent spirits, 
from conviction that they induced dread- 
ful maladies, especially gout, dropsy, and 
insanity ; hence his patients were never 
fieed from his importunities, and the few 
who had courage to persevere benefited 
by his advice. 


Holidays being looked forward to with 
unmixed delight by all whose opportu- 
nities of enjoying them are dependent 
upon others, a sketch of character at such 
a season may amuse those whose inclin- 
ation is not sufficiently strong to study 
the original, and just enough to feel plea- 
sure in looking at tlie picture. The out- 

line and finishing of that which is here 
exinbited prove it the productiu.i of a 
master hand. 

"Th« maid servant must be considtred 
as young, or else she has married the 
butcher, the butler, or her cousin, or has 
otherwise settled into a character distinct 
from her original one, so as to become 
what is properly called the domestic. 
The maid servant, in her apparel, is 
either slovenly or fine by turns, and dirty 
always ; or she is at all times snug and 
neat, and dressed according to her sta- 
tion. In the latter case, her ordinary 
dress is black stockings, a stuflT gown, a 
cap, and neck-handkerchief pinned cor- 
ner-wise behind. If you want a pin, she 
just feels about her, and has always one 
to give you. On Sundays and holidays, 
and perhaps of afternoons, she changes 
her black stockings for white, puts on a 
gown of a better texture and fine pattern, 
sets her cap and her curls jauntily, and 
lays aside the neck-handkerchief for a 
high body, which, by the way, is not half 
so pretty. There is something very warm 
and latent in the handkerchief, — some- 
thing easy, vital, and genial. A woman in 
a high-bodied gown, made to fit her like 
a case, is by no means more modest, and 
is much less templing. She looks like a 
figure at the head of a ship. We could 
almost see her chucked out of docis into a 
cart with as little remorse as a couple of 
sugar-loaves. The tucker is much better, 
as well as the handkerchief; and is to the 
other, what the young lady is to the ser- 
vant. The one always reminds us of the 
Sparkler in the ' Guardian ;' tlie other of 
Fanny in ' .loseph Andrews.' But to re- 
turn : — The general furniture of her ordi- 
nary room, the kitchen, is not so much 
her own as her master's and mistress's, 
and nee*? not be described ; but in a 
drawer of the dresser of the table, in 
company with a duster and a pair ot 
snufi'ers, may be found some of her pro- 
perty, such as a brass thimble, a pair of 
scissars, a thread-case, a piece of wax 
candle much wrinkled with the thread, 
an odd volume of * Pamela,* and per- 
haps a sixpenny play, such as ' George 
Barnwell,' or INIrs. Behn's * Oroonoko.' 
There is a piece of looking-glass also in 
the window. The rest of her furniture is 
in the garret, where you may find a good 
looking-glass on the table ; and in the 
window a Bible, a comb, and a piece of 
soap. Here stands also, under stout lock 
and key, the mighty mystei-y — the box,— 

Vol. I. 




containing among otiier things hor clothes, 
two or three song-books, consisting of 
nineteen for the penny ; sundry tragedies 
at a half-penny the sheet : the 'Whole Na- 
ture of Dreams laid open,' together with 
the 'Fortune-teller,' and the 'Account of 
the Ghost of Mrs. Veal ;' ' the story of the 
beautiful Zoa who was cast away on a 
desert island, showing how,' &c. : some 
half-crowns in a purse, including pieces 
of country money, with the good countess 
of Coventry on one of them riding naked 
on the horse ; a silver penny wrapped 
up in cotton by itself; a crcoked six- 
pence, given her before she came to town, 
and the giver of which has either forgotten 
her or been forgotten by her, she is r.ot 
sure which ; two little enamel boxes, with 
looking-glass in the lids, one of them a 
fairing, the other * a trifle from Margate ;' 
and lastly, various letter's, square and 
ragged, and directed in all sorts of spell- 
ing, chiefly with little letters for capitals. 
One of them, written by a girl who went 
to a day school with her, is directed 
' miss.' — In her manners, the maid ser- 
vant sometimes imitates her young mis- 
tress ; she puts her hair in papers, culti- 
vates a shape, and occasionally contrives 
to be out of spirits. But her own cha- 
racter and condition overcome all sophis- 
tications of this sort ; her shape, fortified 
by the mop and scrubbing-brush, will 
make its way ; and exercise keeps her 
nealthy and cheerful. From the sam.e 
cause her temper is good ; though she 
gets into little heats when a stranger is 
over saucy, or when she i? told not to go 
so heavily down stairs, or when some 
unthinking person goes up her wet stairs 
with dirty shoes — or when she is called 
away often from dinner ; neither does she 
much like to be seen scrubbing the street- 
door-steps of a morning ; and sometimes 
she catches herself saying, * drat that 
butcher,' but immediately adds, * God 
forgive me.' The tradesmen indeed, 
with their compliments and arch looks, 
seldom give her cause to complain The 
milkman bespeaks her good humour for 
the day with — ' Come, pretty maids.' 
Then follow the butcher, the baker, the 
oilman, &c. all with their several smirks 
and little loiterings ; and when she goes 
to the shops herself, it is for her the 
grocer pulls down his string from its 
roller with more than ordinary whirl, and 
tosses, as it were, his parcel into a tie, — 
for her, the cheesemonger weighs his 
butter with half a glance, cherishes it, 

round about with his patties, and dabs 
the little piece on it to make up, with a 
graceful jerk. Thus pass the mornings 
between working, and singing, and gig- 
gling, and grumbling, and being flattered. 
If she takes any pleasure unconnected 
with her office before the afternoon, it is 
when she runs up the area-steps, or to the 
door to hear and purchase a new song, oi 
to see a troop of soldiers go by ; or wheu 
she happens to thrust her head out of a 
chamber window at the same time with 
servant at the next house, when a dia- 
logue infallibly ensues, stimulated by the 
imaginary obstacles between. If the 
maid-servant is wise, the best part of her 
work is done by dinner time ; and nothing 
else is necessary to give perfect zest to 
the meal. She tells us what she thinks 
of it, when she calls it ' a bit o' dinner. 
ITiere is the same sort of eloquence in her 
other phrase, ' a cupo' tea;' but the old 
ones, and the washerwomen, beat her at 
that. After tea in great houses, she goes 
with the other servants to hot cockles, or 
What-are-my-thoughts like, and tells Mr. 
John to ' have done then;' or if there is 
a bull given that night, they throw open 
all the doors, and make use of the music 
up stairs to dance by. In smaller houses, 
she rtceives the visit of her